A Feeling I Can't Hide
by Wutif
Summary: Blaine had been mysteriously transported back to Kurt, more than a hundred and thirty years earlier, summoned with the power of a bolt from the heavens when he had yearned to meet his perfect match. The smoldering glow of their attraction quickly bloomed to a flare that was too obvious to keep a secret for very long. And discovery could be a death sentence here in rural Ohio.
1. Chapter 1

**A Feeling I Can't Hide**

A/N: This is another Lost!Blaine story, but this one has a historical twist and a Time!Slip. Love those stormy blue eyes. Definitely AU

* * *

They couldn't help falling in love, with even the cosmos agreeing they were a perfect match for each other. Blaine had been mysteriously transported back to Kurt, more than a hundred years earlier, with the power of a bolt from the heavens. The smoldering glow of their attraction quickly bloomed to a flare that was too obvious to keep a secret for very long. And discovery could be a death sentence.

* * *

June 1876

There was little to indicate that this day would change Kurt's life forever. Kurt Hummel was returning from a long overdue visit to the home of Mrs. Jones, their housekeeper, one Sunday afternoon. The sky had admittedly looked rather ominous all day, but he hadn't seen his closest friend, Miss Mercy Jones, her daughter, for much too long. She had left the Negro's school at the end of the previous year to help her mother in making ends meet by taking in washing and sewing clothing for people, in addition to looking after their home, since her mother was away from home six days a week 'doing' for Kurt and his widowed father.

The afternoon had flown while he and Mercy indulged in spirited commentary on the local events in Lima and beyond, with their immoderate laughter regularly punctuating their remarks. He finally forced himself to leave the Jones' warm and welcoming hearth for his own cold lonely kitchen, though he had been urged to stay a bit longer for supper. He decided he would be wise to leave for home immediately, before the heavens opened, since he was well-aware that mid-June in Ohio was the worst of the annual thunderstorm season. He didn't want to find himself returning home after dark, with the approaching storm reducing his prospects even more. There would be no slow, glowing early summer sunset tonight, it was quite plain to see, from the advancing dark blanket of cloud covering the sky.

Burt Hummel, Kurt's father, had also gone out for the afternoon, courting the Widow Hudson. He had murmured to Kurt self-consciously, with a hint of a blush when he left, that he might possibly be late, because he hoped to be invited to stay for dinner. Kurt had merely smiled at him, pleased that his father's wooing seemed to be going so well. It was gratifying that his introduction of his father and Mrs. Hudson had led to them enjoying each other's company, after both of them being widowed for many years now. Burt, since Kurt's mother died when he was merely a lad of 8 and Carole Hudson since shortly after her husband had gone marching off with his regiment fifteen years ago, wearing the Union blue, determined to free the south from tyranny in the war of the North against the South. His son had been merely a babe in his mother's arms when they got word of his death.

It was unfortunate that Mrs. Hudson's only son retained no memory of his heroic father, because Kurt still treasured numerous memories of his beloved and very beautiful mother, whom he was said to favour greatly. His most precious possession was a painted miniature of her, though his father said fondly that he could see his mother's eyes whenever he wanted, when he looked into his own mirror. He had also inherited many of her elegant and refined mannerisms, her willowy frame...and her lovely singing voice.

Burt, in turn, was rather relieved that Kurt seemed to prefer to spend most of his free time socializing with their housekeeper's daughter, instead of more tempting eligible ladies. Kurt was seventeen now and quite old enough to start noticing pretty ladies, though still much too young to give any thought to marrying.

Burt judged Mercy unsuitable for Kurt simply because she and his son were _too_ close, more like brother and sister, than a courting couple. The fact that she was a Negro mattered much more to socially conscious people in town, than it did to Burt or his son, since they had ceased to notice the complexion of the Jones family long ago. They were quite unusual in that respect, here in Ohio in 1876. It was an unfortunate fact that Anita Jones was regularly reminded that she was born a slave, by those who sought to keep her in her proper place, when they felt she'd forgotten it.

Mrs. Jones was supposed to be their housekeeper, having been employed by Kurt's father since the unfortunate passing of Kurt's mother, but she seemed more like part of their family now. Burt was completely hopeless when it came to domestic tasks, so Mrs. Jones efficiently ensured they were well fed, and their home was clean and welcoming for them. Kurt was far less hopeless domestically than his father, thanks to her tutelage, but his father reminded him daily that his first priority should be acquiring an excellent education, not baking treats for him or tailoring a new coat.

Kurt's father had recently been elected county reeve, in a surprise rout of the ludicrously incapable incumbent. Up until then, he'd been merely a local merchant, with a busy repair shop behind a small general store, where Kurt was also employed during the summers and on Saturdays. Now that he would have a more reliable source of income, his father told Kurt he hoped to inquire at the new Dalton Academy for Boys in Westerville, to enroll him for the next and last year of his education, before he attended university in one of the great cities of New York, Boston or Chicago.

He insisted that if Kurt associated with a more lofty level of society, it could do nothing but improve his future prospects and that a diploma from such a school would ensure he achieved entry to the best Universities to become a lawyer or a doctor. Kurt told his father he was reluctant to move so far away to attend university, which was a prevarication, since secretly he yearned to see far more of the world, beyond the small town in Ohio he'd been born in. He was lately becoming more receptive to the idea, now that he suspected he wouldn't be leaving his father alone and lonely, which was the real reason for his hesitancy.

Unless his father proposed to Mrs. Hudson in the next few months, Kurt intended to resist transferring to Dalton Academy. It was located so far away that he would have to board there, and make the arduous four hour trek home by hired coach on the occasional weekend to see his father and Mercy. Kurt sighed, knowing he would do whatever he must to please his father, even if he insisted he change schools.

Kurt suspected that some of Burt's enthusiasm for him attending the new school was because he had recently become aware from Mrs. Hudson that Kurt was often the unfortunate target of maltreatment from many of the brutish boys at his local school. They accused Kurt of being a fop and feeling himself socially superior, when in truth, he simply appreciated fine clothing, good etiquette and beautiful music. Should any of his school mates suddenly acquire an interest in nice clothing, good music, and proper manners, he would enthusiastically seek out their company. As it was, he only allowed himself to truly relax and be himself in the privacy of his home where only Mercy and Mrs. Jones were privy to his real character, instead of when he tried to fit in better by behaving more like the majority of other young men he knew.

Kurt hiked his collar up, clutched his coat tighter and hurried his steps as he leaned into the wind, wishing there was some way to foretell that the weather was going to become _this_ foul before he'd left the Jones' home. He'd originally ventured out today into the lowering clouds with a frisson of excitement, to be truthful. Over the last year, he'd had many strangely powerful dreams of exultantly standing out in the rain and wind, feeling their elemental force circulate through him.

He was exceedingly disturbed that he was usually naked in those dreams, standing on a hillside with his arms raised in supplication for….what? He wasn't sure, but it somehow felt as if the storm was able to give it to him. In any case, he very much enjoyed the rain and wind of a summer storm, though appreciating a storm from indoors was surely more pleasurable than his current wet and cold condition.

Perhaps in his dream, the storm was a metaphor for God, who he sincerely hoped might one day grant him someone to love as adoring and sensitive as his mother had been. Similarity of personality certainly didn't seem to be a prerequisite to happiness though, since his father and mother had been nearly polar opposites, and still been deeply devoted to each other. Kurt looked upward to the blustery heavens, from where his mother undoubtedly still watched over him lovingly and hoped that whoever that turned out to be, that his mother approved.

He pulled his flat cap farther down on his head in a futile effort to shield his eyes from the increasing downpour, whipped sideways like the tree branches tossed by the swirling wind. He was only ten minutes' walk away from the Jones' home, but he was already chillingly drenched to the skin. The constant ominous rumble in the distance portended even worse weather about to arrive. He decided to distract himself from his discomfort by imagining the person he might marry one day. Sparkling eyes, hair…perhaps dark, in contrast to his…

Suddenly he was felled to the ground by a tremendous explosion, with his ears ringing like he'd just suffered a blow to the head. The rotten egg smell of sulphur in the air felt like a malodorous blanket holding him to the ground. The rain pooled on his face and the wet seeped into his jacket and the back of his trousers, as he lay helpless on the side of the roadway, unable to make his muscles obey him at all. He felt like a marionette with his strings disconnected, all voluntary command of his body completely lost. Would he be met by an angel who would soon appear to escort him to paradise to be reunited with his mother? He didn't feel he deserved the alternative. Gracious, he'd scarcely had an opportunity to sin yet, with his dull and mundane life.

A remote part of his mind noticed the wind was now picking up even more speed to a gale, and the sky was becoming the colour of the fresh bruise on his shoulder from one of the louts at school. He felt distant tingling beginning in his hands and feet, and turned his head to watch his fingers curl slowly into his palm. Ohgood, apparently he hadn't yet left his father alone and departed from this life!

He heard a strange sound penetrate his foggy brain, and swung his head toward it stiffly, mystified by what could be causing it. It sounded like the wind rubbing a tree branch on another, making it groan in protest. There were two large trees nearby but the sound seemed to come from the opposite direction. He rolled slowly to his side, determined to get out of this storm before he was felled unequivocally dead by the next bolt of lightning. The sky had become dark as night now, though the afternoon was barely over.

He rose to one knee and then was toppled again buy a sudden gust of wind. "Well, damn it to perdition, my coat and trousers will be completely ruined by the mud." He grumbled the complaint, as he once again rolled to his hands and knees to regain his feet, feeling wickedly daring when he swore, though there was no one there to offend.

"Hey…is somebody there? Ohhh man! What the _hell _hit me?" A faint voice reached Kurt's ears over the wind and rain, sounding weak and helpless. Someone else must have been approaching from the other direction and been felled by the same bolt that hit him! He had to find him and see if he had been more seriously damaged.

Kurt finally regained his footing and peered through the wildly whipping wind and rain as he stood swaying precariously, with leaves blowing past him. He saw nothing and no one, at first glance. Wait…something was slowly moving twenty feet away on the grassy roadside verge.

He wobbled toward the movement, his joints still feeling only loosely connected, and saw someone lying on the ground. A young man was splayed on his back, looking as helpless as Kurt had felt when he was down there. Kurt leaned over and peered at the man, as he slowly drew one foot toward his body.

Kurt blinked in surprise as their eyes met. "Um…hello…are you all right?" He spoke uncertainly. The boy was a complete stranger. Kurt knew most people around Lima from working in his father's store, at least by sight, since Lima numbered no more than 500 souls, but he'd never seen this face before. He would definitely have remembered that curly hair and handsome face.

"Oooohhhh! _Fuck_, I feel like I got hit by a bus!" The boy said, with an excess of feeling, as he closed his eyes again and flung one arm over them, evidently in hopes of mitigating the pain.

Oh my! Kurt blinked at his new acquaintance's salty language. He must be in extreme discomfort to speak to a stranger in that manner. Kurt had only indulged himself because he was sure there was no one nearby to hear him.

"I too was laid low by our shared blast from the heavens, but I seem to have recovered somewhat more quickly. Perhaps _you_ have suffered more grievous damage? Do you need some assistance to help you regain your footing, or do you think I should seek a conveyance?" Kurt knelt down to shield the boy from the wind, noticing now that he wore only a light undershirt and a pair of dungarees folded up several inches to reveal his bare ankles. How had he gotten all the way out here, while only half-dressed?

"Huh?" The boy looked at him blankly as he made an inquiring noise. Oh dear, Kurt hoped he hadn't suffered a mental impairment in addition to his physical injuries.

"DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND UP, WITH MY HELP?" Kurt spoke loudly and quite slowly to allow the other boy to comprehend his question.

The boy quirked his mouth at him in a bemused smile and snorted. "Yeah, I guess so, if you don't mind giving me a hand." He raised his hand toward Kurt who grasped it and pulled on it...much too vigorously, apparently. The boy suddenly heaved to his feet and lurched forward into Kurt. He grasped Kurt's waist to steady himself, standing so close Kurt's eyes were only inches away from his.

"Woah" The stranger said softly and gazed into Kurt's eyes with an enthralled expression.

Kurt felt like he'd been hit with another bolt of lightning when those intense topaz eyes, with all the colours of woodland leaves, trees and grass, gazed into his. His heart gave a _thump_ as it lurched in his chest and he immediately flushed, and cut his own eyes away, unable to bear their owner's fascinated scrutiny for one second longer. The boy backed up a step or two away from him then, but continued to look at him spellbound.

Blaine had found himself looking into eyes with all the colours of the sky and the sea mixed in a storm, deep blue and grey and green melded together, as deep and mysterious as the ocean. The intense stare returned to him had raised his hopes that he'd met a kindred soul. "Am I reading my gaydar completely wrong or do you maybe play on my team?" He asked the attractive stranger who had helped him up, with a hopeful smile.

"I…_beg _your pardon? Why would …? I'm afraid I'm not very interested in sports." Kurt was nonplussed by the odd question, assuming the stranger was confused, perhaps still suffering lasting ill effects from the strike.

"Forget it…my bad. I guess I was reading you wrong. We should probably get our asses out of the rain, dude, before we get totally refried." Blaine sighed with resignation. Damn, that would have been way too good to be true. All the cute ones were straight or taken, it seemed.

Kurt believed finding shelter would indeed be wise. The lightning was still blazing in the sky in every direction. The boy he'd helped up looked around himself, suddenly looking even more perplexed, and then felt his pockets in dismay. He started wandering around, checking the ground for something.

Kurt was beginning to believe the stranger was definitely _not_ from Ohio. He spoke English without an obvious accent, but quite strangely. He'd never heard idiom such as his before. He seemed to have mistaken him for an acquaintance named 'Dude', a rather odd appellation. His partner in misfortune appeared to have decided that whatever he was looking for wasn't to be found, since he ceased casting around in search of whatever it was. Kurt suddenly remembered his manners, with a rush of guilt.

"Oh, of course. Pardon my rudeness. I should introduce myself. I'm Kurt Hummel, from Lima. Are you expected imminently somewhere else? If not, perhaps you would like to accompany me back to my friend's home to take shelter there until the storm abates. It's only five or ten minutes' walk that way, while Lima lies fifteen the other way. Shall I assist you in your search for whatever you've lost, before we go? I think we should both make haste out of the storm before we find ourselves less fortunate in the event of another strike."

Kurt hoped he might inspire a reciprocal introduction, then wondered what in heavens the boy was looking for. His shirt, perhaps? He couldn't help noticing that the undershirt he wore was nearly transparent from the rain, giving him the illusion of being in a state of dishabille, even greater than he actually was. His eyes were irresistibly drawn back to the dark circles of his nipples, quite clearly visible through his shirt, no matter how hard he tried to keep his gaze elsewhere.

"Um, no, don't bother. Uh, I'm Blaine Anderson, from Findlay. Pleased to meet you, Kurt Hummel, from Lima. I was headed to the mall, but I'm stumped as to how I ended up _here_. The strike must have blasted away a few memory cells, so I think I'll hang out with you for a bit, until I figure things out again. I must have lost my IPhone someplace along the way, so maybe I can call from your girlfriend's house for a ride. I don't see it anywhere around here."

Blaine smiled at him engagingly, and Kurt nodded to him vaguely, completely baffled by his speech again. All he'd gotten from _that_ exchange was that he believed Blaine likely intended to accompany him to Mercy's house. They were both soaked to the skin now, so there was little point in worrying about getting wetter, but there was always the possibility of being struck again or having a branch land on them from the wind-tortured trees. Kurt was in no mind to tempt fate any farther.

He held out a hand toward their destination in an invitation which Blaine accepted. As they began to walk, Blaine seemed more and more disconcerted. "I have no idea where the hell I am, Kurt. Do you think I might have lost my memory or something? I mean, I _know _who _I _am, man. I don't have amnesia, but I don't recognize this road at all. How did I end up out here in the country? We must be miles away from where I was." Blaine was regarding Kurt in obvious confusion, but he could offer him no enlightenment at all, other than a reasoned approach to solving the mystery of his translocation.

"Where is the last place you recall being sure of your situation, Blaine? You say you were going to…the mall? Is that near where you were staying? Were you perhaps planning to go riding? I don't recall meeting or seeing you before, so I believe you're probably not from around here. Do you remember who you were visiting?" Normally, Kurt would never be so forward as to ask all those questions of a new connection, but Blaine was obviously at a loss to remember recent events himself.

"Uh, yeah. I'd just left my friend, Wes Kumar's house in Lima and I was headed to the mall to meet a couple of other friends there to go see a movie with them. It's about twenty minutes' walk, I think, from Wes' house, north to the mall. I'm not sure exactly, because I usually drive from there, but I didn't have my car today because my dad grounded me for mouthing off at him last week, so now I can only use it to drive to school in Westerville for two whole freaking weeks. I know there are houses and stores along the roads to the mall, though. Nothing in that area looks as rural as _this_ place. I thought I knew all the roads around, but there's hardly a house or anything around here, and the road isn't even paved."

Blaine looked at Kurt expectantly, hoping for some insight. Kurt blinked in complete bafflement, mystified by Blaine's explanation. What ever could he be referring to? A movie? His car? His dad 'grounded' him? 'Mouthing off'? What in heaven's name _language_ did they speak in Westerville? He was sure there was no family by the foreign sounding name of Kumar, living around here. He decided he would respond to the parts he presumed he _did_ understand and hope for enlightenment to arrive regarding the rest of his statement.

"Lima is southwest from here. Oh! Do you attend Westerville's Dalton Academy for Boys, Blaine? I believe my father intends to enroll me there next fall, for my final year. I see I may have more trouble adjusting than I originally foresaw. There seems to be some sort of lingual code or special dialect I will have to learn. Pray, tell me, what is 'a movie'? Is a 'car' a conveyance of some sort? Does your father 'grounding you' refer to some sort of corporal punishment? I suspect I can guess what 'mouthing off" might mean. I _have_ noticed you seem to lack decorum in your conversation, so I'm not surprised your father seeks to correct you. That _is_ his duty, isn't it?" Kurt spoke as softly as he dared, not wanting to sound critical, but having to speak up over the wind and rain that continued to swirl around them. Blaine seemed to have a very casual attitude to making a new association.

Blaine glanced at Kurt, with a snort of amusement. "Geeze, you sound like a page out of "Little Women", Kurt. Are you in character for a role or something? This is _not_ the time to rehearse, dude. I'm truly kinda lost here. And, yes I do go to Dalton. Do you know which way _that_ is? I need to get myself oriented. My buddies are going to be worrying about me, if I don't show up soon. I'm cold and wet and I'd _really_ like to get out of this weather."

Blaine sounded rather critical and annoyed at him, which Kurt felt was unjust, but at least _this _comment he understood...well, most of it, at least. He truly _wasn't_ trying to be obstructive to Blaine's purposes. There was no need to insult him by telling him he sounded like a diminutive woman. He couldn't help that his voice tended to sound the way it did, especially when he was overwrought…though, admittedly, it wasn't considered masculine at any time, even by himself. He restrained his first impulse to snap at Blaine and took a breath to forestall his ire. They were nearing the Jones residence and soon would be able to converse more easily without having to shout to be heard over the wind. He hoped to soothe their ruffled tempers, with their arrival there, a haven of safety and warmth.

"We're nearing my friend's house now, and I most certainly wish to get out of the weather too. For your information, Westerville is southeast of here, _that _way, several hours ride by coach. I have no idea what you are referring to when you malign me for rehearsing a role. I'm not playing _any_ role, other than as your would-be rescuer. I'm sorry if we misunderstand each other." Kurt was dismayed that he and Blaine had become irritated at each other. He had hoped they might become friends, after meeting in such a portentous manner.

Blaine craned into the distance in the direction Kurt pointed toward Westerville, but with the rain and wind he was unable to see anything familiar. They must be in a very rural area because there were no towers or hydro poles or anything around here. He decided to wait until he got to Kurt's girlfriend's house. Maybe he could call Jeff or Nick from there and they could come pick him up in Nick's car. He was relieved to see a small house come into view, situated to the side of the road, but was disappointed that he didn't recognize anything around there either.

He glanced at Kurt's pinched lips and could tell he'd probably pissed him off. Crap! He'd likely come across as a jerk, when he was just frustrated by not knowing what was going on. He was really grateful for Kurt's help and didn't want him to think he didn't appreciate him.

"Hey, I'm really sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean to sound so pissy. I'm not mad at_ you_. I'm just trying to figure out what the hell is going on. "

Kurt nodded sheepishly, deciding he should probably forgive Blaine his repeated lapses in manners, because of his recent trauma. Their proposed refuge from the storm had providentially come into view. The Jones home was a story and a half wood-sided cabin, with a wide porch across the front. There was a golden welcoming lamp light glowing in the windows that warmed Blaine's heart even before they mounted the steps and approached the door. The siding could use a coat of paint and the yard could use a trim, but it was clean and tidy otherwise.

Kurt knocked on the door, and it shortly was answered by a young black girl of about their age. Blaine blinked at her outfit. What the bloody hell was _with_ everybody? Kurt's girlfriend was wearing a long green dress. Like, long! Right to the floor! It was closely fitted on her upper torso, with a draped lacy collar that ran down to either side of her waist. Was everybody rehearsing for a play or something?

"Oh, Kurt! You did get caught out in the weather! I warned you that you might, but I'm glad you're back here safely now. Come in and get dry again. You brought a friend with you in these terrible conditions?" The girl smiled at Blaine in welcome, her very white teeth glowing in her dark complexion.

"I chanced upon Blaine on the roadway, Mercy… literally. This is my new acquaintance, Blaine Anderson, Mercy. Blaine, may I present Miss Mercy Jones, my most dear friend. You won't _believe_ the occasion of our meeting, Mercy. We were both struck by the same bolt from the heavens and lived to tell the tale of it! We seem both to have suffered minimal damage, it appears, other than extreme detriment to our clothing, though Blaine appears to also have lost his way to the home of his friends. I hope you can give us shelter until we can return to Lima and locate their whereabouts."

Mercy tsked in sympathy, and hustled her visitors to come in to the fire, calling out to her mother to assist her in warming them. Mrs. Jones came into the front room from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel.

"Kurt, my poor child, you and your friend are completely soaked. Come near to the fire and warm yourselves. I'll see if I can find something else for you both to wear, while your things dry and then we'll get some hot tea into you." Mrs. Jones opened a blanket box under the window, removed two colourfully woven blankets and distributed them to the sodden boys, as her first action to warm them, and hopefully stop their dripping on her clean floors.

"Anita, this is Blaine Anderson. Blaine, this is Mrs. Anita Jones, Mercy's mother." Kurt introduced the woman who was his proxy mother, and then gratefully submitted to her brisk flurry of attention in getting both boys dry and warm. Blaine had been very quiet since they arrived, saying very little other than to say he was pleased to meet both the women. He looked rather confused, as his eyes darted around the cabin searchingly.

Blaine felt like he'd stepped into a time machine. There was a fireplace warming the room, and a kerosene lamp lighting it. All the furnishings looked rustic and the extreme period detail was really freaking him out. He was starting to feel cold and clammy from the inside too, as his stomach dropped farther and farther.

Kurt informed Blaine that Mr. Jones had just left to go back to Sandusky on the coach, returning there with two other men, as was usual every Sunday evening, after the weekend. He was a salt miner and stayed at a relative's house all week, but he had left enough clothing there for both Blaine and Kurt to change into while their clothes dried. Mercy glanced at Kurt inquiringly, wondering if it was the fact they were Negroes that made Blaine seem so uncomfortable. Kurt returned her glance with a tiny almost imperceptible shrug. He had just met the boy himself. He had no idea of his personal biases.

There was some further awkwardness while they changed to dry clothing in Anita's bedroom. Blaine appeared to be just as fascinated with the accoutrements in the Jones' bedroom. He inspected the basin and ewer on the wash stand with its big cabbage roses, and the matching chamber pot in the corner of the room. He took note of the row of hooks on the wall that held Anita's Sunday dress and hat, and paid particular attention to the sturdy button-up shoes below, that she wore to church. He also seemed captivated by the handmade quilt in shades of green and yellow on their iron bedstead, in a pattern Kurt believed was called Log Cabin.

Kurt lost no time in pulling off his cold and muddy jacket, his soaked shirt and trousers, and then sat on the bed and peeled off his drenched stockings, leaving him in only his damp small clothes, which he decided to retain for modesty's sake. His skin was cold and stippled all over with goose bumps, as he hastily donned the plain blue collarless cotton shirt and rather roomy Sunday trousers belonging to Amos Jones.

His stealthy glance toward Blaine in the gloomy light of the bedroom showed him Blaine in the same state of undress, but his under-clothes were unusual, in that they seemed to fit very closely and had a wide black band around the top of the dark grey material. Kurt was intrigued. He had never seen unmentionables like them before.

Blaine caught him looking and smiled at him shyly, though he seemed to be staring in interest at his drawers too. Kurt's were the usual cross-over buttoned ones that most men wore, of plain soft white muslin cotton that was now nearly transparent with the wet. Their eyes met and they both blushed, realizing their staring was becoming inappropriate at the same time.

Blaine was distracted from his growing bewilderment by the glowing pale skin of the beautiful boy in the dim light, his cotton boxers … his shorts? Whatever they were, they were stuck to his body and giving Blaine a tantalizing hint of the hidden delights below. Who _wore_ things like that? If he was wearing a costume, no one would know what he wore under it, so that meant…maybe it wasn't a costume? All the other period items in the house were giving him the appalling idea that maybe this wasn't staging for a play. Maybe…okay, it was totally nuts, but he had to ask.

"Kurt…I have a question to ask you. It might sound a little weird, but I'm serious. What is today's date?" Blaine spoke with a softly hesitant note to his voice that confused Kurt. Blaine wished to know the date? Whatever for? Oh my, he must still be suffering confusion from the strike.

"It's Sunday June 4th today. Do you think you might have lost the memory of some time, Blaine? I believe that wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibility, considering how close we both were to being blasted all the way past the rain clouds above us." Kurt answered in as light a tone as he could, trying to reassure Blaine that he wouldn't judge, if he had forgotten how and when he got to Lima. He fully intended to take care of the poor displaced young man. If all else failed, they could take the coach to Findlay tomorrow and find his home that way.

"What year is this?" Blaine asked even more softly, his troubled eyes telling Kurt this was no joke.

Oh…dear! Blaine's memory might be worse than he thought. "Its 1876" Kurt answered briefly, trying not to sound distressed by Blaine's question.

"_Hooooly_ _fuck_! You're serious, aren't you?" Blaine's face had lost all its colour, his pallor obvious even in this poor light. Kurt decided to overlook Blaine's language again, though he really should try to curb his swearing. He seemed to be _extremely_ perturbed by the information Kurt had given him.

"Is the year troubling to you? What date did you expect it might be?" Kurt asked, wondering why Blaine looked so shocked.

"I…Kurt… it was June 4_ 2011_ when I left Wes' house." Blaine answered numbly.

WHAT! Kurt's eyes widened in dismay. Blaine must have suffered _much _worse damage to his mind than he suspected. He was looking like he might pass out soon, wavering on his feet, so Kurt decided to get him into a chair as soon as he might.

"Oh! … Well…we should probably return to the front room, Blaine. Anita will be worrying. You should sit down and rest for a while."

Kurt hoped Blaine wouldn't collapse before he got him to a chair. He was looking absolutely gob-smacked now, shocked beyond reason in a delayed reaction from his unfortunate accident. He still stood immobile, wearing only the half buttoned striped white shirt and his odd under clothes. Blaine's eyes were empty of anything but stunned dismay, and he wasn't making any move to finish dressing and don the black trousers waiting on the bed.

Kurt finished doing up the fly buttons on his own trousers, put the attached suspenders over his shoulders and approached Blaine warily to assist him. He looked pale as a ghost and his skin felt icy cold and clammy. He _needed_ to get some clothes on him and get him warm before he fainted from shock.

Kurt slowly did up the rest of his shirt buttons for Blaine and then bent over and held out the trousers for Blaine to step into, a remote corner of his attention detecting a sweet odor of cologne emanating from his friend. The fact that he wore cologne implied that he too appreciated the finer things in life. Blaine distractedly put a hand on Kurt's shoulder and wordlessly stepped into the pants, looking like he was barely functioning. Kurt pulled the trousers up around Blaine's waist and did up the top button. Blaine still stood unmoving, paralyzed by the realization that time seemed to have slipped a century and some when he got hit by the lightning bolt.

Kurt knew he had to get Blaine to a chair as soon as he could, but incapable of making any progress himself, he decided to continue to assist him. Rather than have Blaine rejoin the ladies in the front room unbuttoned, he used as light a touch as possible to do up his fly buttons. He felt Blaine's prick underneath his fingers, seeking refuge from the cold and damp by drawing close to his body, just as Kurt's was. At least his _had_ been in hiding. Kurt felt it stirring as he finished the last button, and felt a blush bloom on his face at the realization that it was the unaccustomed contact with Blaine's body causing it. How embarrassing if Blaine should realize it. He thanked the good Lord that the trousers he wore were several sizes too large for his small frame, as he put the suspenders in place over Blaine's shoulders.

He gathered up their discarded wet clothing from the rag rug they were standing on and led Blaine solicitously back to the warmth of the fire with a hand under his arm. Blaine accompanied him unresisting, and Kurt settled him into Anita's rocking chair, with a worried glance to Mercy as she tucked the blanket around him again, and wrapped him in a shawl. She tilted her head at Kurt in a questioning glance at his bewildered condition. He nodded toward the kitchen, and they left Blaine sitting gazing into the fire with every appearance of being in a stunned stupor, while they returned to the kitchen.

"Is Blaine suffering some cerebral disturbance, Kurt?" Mercy asked Kurt hesitantly, as she began to prepare tea. "He seems rather quiet, but my, oh my, he looks fine to me, honey. That is a _very_ nice looking man." Anita gave her daughter a warning glance, but didn't say anything, since she knew Mercy was likely teasing to help relax Kurt. She was up to her eyebrows, cooking and baking on her day off from her employment at the Hummel's, and was happy to let Mercy offer hospitality to their guests, unless they needed her.

"Mercy," Kurt whispered to her quietly, so Anita wouldn't hear. "He _told _me he thought the year was 2011! That's a hundred and thirty five years from now! He's suffered some sort of terrible damage to his intellect and I don't know how to restore it! What should we do?" Kurt sounded distressed near to tears at Blaine's state.

Mercy patted her friend's arm to reassure him. "Kurt, please just down sit and rest for a bit. You _both_ need a hot cup of tea, and some time to recover from the shock you've had. I'm sure he'll likely be right as rain by tomorrow, after a good night's sleep. We should try to discover how to contact his family though. He's in no condition to return to them today, but we could at least try to send them a message. You could take him back to your house tonight...or, I suppose…if he can't travel, he could stay here tonight." Anita sent another wary glance to her daughter, at that. Not unless he absolutely had too, she meant.

Kurt was comforted by Mercy's calm voice of reason and decided she was probably right. He couldn't assume simply because he seemed to be not quite himself right now, that Blaine wouldn't survive unscathed as well. They had both nearly died, he knew. He had heard of _no_ one else who had survived being struck by lightning, so it made sense that at least one of them should suffer some lasting effect, though he certainly hoped Blaine's difficulties would not be permanent.

Kurt spent a moment envisioning becoming Blaine's caretaker, leading him through each day, if he never came to his senses. But that was ridiculous! Blaine was not so confused that he would never be able to function properly. He was merely slightly confused by the date. Well, perhaps more than slightly.

Mercy poured out three cups of tea from the big brown teapot and stirred in some honey, then put some sweet biscuits on a plate. She carried it all out to the front room on a tray laid with a napkin and set it on a side table beside Blaine. He gave her an absent glance, still looking distracted and befuddled. She passed his cup to him and he accepted it, but stared at it as if he hardly knew what to do with it.

"Now drink it down, Blaine. It'll make you feel better." Mercy said to him sternly. He nodded and obediently took a careful sip. He had hardly ever drunk tea, but found it comforting just now and wrapped his icy hands around the cup. He took another sip, pleasing Mercy with his cooperation. Kurt had followed her into the room, so she passed him his cup too. He usually drank it with milk, but today he decided to take it plain, needing its bracing comfort. Mercy took hers and settled beside Kurt on the settee.

"Blaine, can we send a telegraph message to your family to reassure them you're only delayed on your journey? I don't believe it's wise to attempt a long coach ride to Findlay just now. Perhaps you would like to go home tonight with Kurt and tomorrow, he'll help you get home?"

Blaine snorted in dismay. "I don't think we'll have any luck contacting my parents. They're …much too far away to reach them." He subsided into silence again, wondering if he would _ever_ see his parents again. What if they never found out what happened to him? They would always wonder why he had disappeared. They had been bickering for months now, since he came out and told them he was gay. They said they would accept him, but suddenly, he could seldom please them. Or maybe, he was the one holding the grudge against the world for his lonely lot in life. When he'd come out, most of his many friends suddenly forgot who he was and he only had a few friends left now, all of them members of the Warblers and all of them straight.

"Could we contact the friends you were visiting? Are they nearby? Would they be able to pass on a message?" Blaine just shook his head numbly at Kurt's questions, knowing no one at all was going to know where and _when_ he'd gone. What was he going to do stuck here in the past? How would he get home again? "They can't be reached either, until I figure out how to get back there." Mercy and Kurt glanced to each other, mutually deciding to let Blaine rest and recuperate for a while, without being disturbed. He was starting to sound more confused again.

They all sat silently drinking their tea together until the wan light faded completely to dimness. Mercy lit another lamp that spread a wider golden circle of light around them in the room. The sky outside was slowly clearing now, the storm over, giving them a fantastic show through the watery looking west window with the sun shining red and gold through the vestiges of the clouds. A few minutes later a few stars began to shine through a foggy haze that hovered thickly over the saturated ground. Blaine started to feel warm again, and his colour improved.

Mercy was grateful to see their guest's condition improve to nearly normal again, and reached a hand to his, noticing he was warm again. "Will you return to Lima with Kurt tonight, Blaine? If you don't feel well enough to return there, you could stay the night here, but..." Blaine could hear the hesitation in Mercy voice. She didn't want him to stay there?

Kurt knew exactly why Mercy and Anita were discomforted. If anyone was to find out a strange man stayed the night with just the two ladies, people would talk, inferring they were making extra money by entertaining gentlemen callers. It would not do to make his friend pay such a high cost to shelter them longer, unless it was absolutely necessary. Kurt had often curtailed his own evening visits to maintain their reputation as virtuous ladies.

"If Blaine is up to it, we'll go back to my house soon, Mercy. We won't impose any longer on your hospitality." Kurt stood, and folded the crocheted blanket he'd used and laid it over the back of the settee.

Blaine wasn't sure why, but he understood Kurt wanted him to go home with him. He was slowly starting to come out of the shock that had gripped him, with the care and concern he could feel from his new friends.

"I'll be fine, Mercy. I just…I'm a little…shaken up. We should probably let you get on with your supper. You've been very kind to a complete stranger landing on your doorstep." Their own clothes were still very wet, dripping steadily where they were draped near the fire, so Mercy suggested they wear their borrowed clothing home and Anita would return it later.

Kurt stood, evaluating whether his new friend was truly recovered enough to walk back to Lima. Blaine suddenly stood too, and surprised Mercy with a warm hug and some murmured words of thanks. Few white men would have dared to be so forward as to hug her, without her suspecting them of doubtful motives. Mercy didn't feel anything untoward in Blaine's quick embrace. He simply wanted to thank her. She smiled at him warmly, feeling an immediate connection to the unusual young man. She hoped he regained his full mental faculties soon.

Kurt and Blaine set off into the dusk, with Kurt keeping a close watch on his new friend, in case he demonstrated any distressing new symptoms.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N: Blaine and Kurt had both been struck by the same bolt of lightning, resulting in Blaine travelling back through time to Kurt's era a hundred and more years earlier. Kurt made him feel as if he had a friend in this strange new world he found himself in.**

Kurt and Blaine walked silently for a few minutes, the sound of exultant frogs serenading them and the scent of the damp vegetation filling their senses. Kurt could tell Blaine was looking at him when he saw the stars shining in his eyes. "I'm_ not_ crazy Kurt. Other than having lost a century or so along the way, I seem to have survived being struck by lightning fairly well. I just… don't know how I'm ever going to get back again." Blaine sounded so distraught; Kurt didn't know how to respond. What could he say?

"I'm so sorry Blaine. I'll do whatever I can to help you. Please know that you have a friend, in any case." Kurt put his hand on Blaine's sleeve to reinforce his words. Blaine put his hand over Kurt's gratefully. It really did help to know Kurt was a friend, instead of being all alone here.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. I feel like Gulliver, in the land of Lilliput" Blaine said morosely.

"You refer to Jonathan Swift's work? I'm familiar with it! Is it still just as popular a century and more from now?" Kurt asked excitedly. He had very much enjoyed the story of a man marooned out of his milieu. Perhaps there _were_ some parallels to Blaine's situation...

"You're not _that _short, you know." Kurt offered, his voice holding in a barely smothered laugh.

"Geeze, there are comedians everywhere...and every _when_. It's sad that I have to put up with short jokes, even here. I am _so_ disappointed in you, Kurt." Blaine sighed theatrically, but with his amused grin easily visible in the faint moonlight.

Kurt let out the laugh he'd held in, glad Blaine had responded positively to his teasing remark, and they continued their journey, now nearing the outskirts of Lima. They began to pass the outlying houses, becoming closer to each other as they entered the village limits.

"Hey, I know that place." Blaine suddenly remarked. "It's a stately old house that's been renovated into a lawyers' office. The trim is painted all cream in my time, though." Blaine finally recognized where he was in Lima.

Blaine had indicated the Hastings House across the road. It had been built about ten years previous and had barely lost the bloom of newness, the green and white paint still quite fresh against the red brick. "Are all the other houses _not_ still here then?" Kurt asked curiously. What stood in their place, then?

"Most of them are gone. There are mostly businesses in strip malls, fast food joints, gas stations and car dealers in their place now, and there's a Wal-Mart over there on the right…gas stations are places to refuel cars….and yes, cars _are_ conveyances. Its a long story, Kurt. I'll fill you in sometime." Blaine gave up, too tired and depressed to try to explain. Where would he start?

Kurt accepted Blaine's deferral of his explanation. They were almost home, so they would be interrupted anyway, when Kurt introduced his new friend to his father. "Blaine, I'd like to keep the fact that you suffered a displacement from your own time from my father for now." Kurt wasn't sure yet if Blaine was truly lost in time or if he was simply lost in his own head, but either way his father would worry, if he knew about it. For now, he would prefer if his friend was simply a traveller, lost and alone and needing a friend, which Kurt was happy to be to him. They would find out more about Blaine's situation tomorrow.

"Sure thing. I don't blame you. He'd probably toss me out on my ass." Blaine said carelessly. "Oh, I'm sorry. ..on my ear. Better?" He smiled at Kurt cheekily. "I know swear words hurt your tender ears."

"Yes, that's better. I've _used_ the words, Blaine. I just am more discerning about _when_ I use them, and when I'm around ladies or someone I've just met, that isn't one of those times." Kurt protested tartly.

"I apologize, Kurt. I can control my mouth better than that. It's just that I usually relax around my friends, and I guess I consider you a friend." Blaine shrugged, with a quirk of his mouth.

Kurt felt a rush of pleasure at his words and laughed comfortably, as they circled his house back to the kitchen door. Only callers used the front one.

"Well then, let's get our asses into the house and we'll get some supper and then some rest. I too, am bloody tired." Blaine gave his friend a friendly pat on the arm as they entered the house, amused by Kurt's lame effort to swear though he knew that Kurt's presence was the only thing that was keeping him from devolving into the cowering kid inside him wailing 'how am I gonna get back home again'?

The kitchen was dark when they entered the house, with only the light of the smothered wood stove illuminating vague shadows in what Blaine thought was likely the kitchen. Kurt had banked the fire to smolder before he left, so the room enveloped them in warmth. He broke off a straw from the broom and lit the large oil lamp over the table, the light quickly swelling like a miniature sunrise, before he swung open the range's fire door and tucked in a couple more sticks of wood. He judged that was just enough to burn hot for a couple of hours and bring the temperature high enough to heat the water tank at the back of the stove and warm some supper for them.

"Are you hungry, Blaine? There is some fresh bread and butter and a wedge of cheese in the ice box, and I believe there is also some chowder left over from our lunch I could reheat to go with it if you'd like. The water to wash with will take some time to warm before bed time."

Kurt shared a glance with Blaine who stared at him, taken off-guard by his smiling side-glance with the warm lamp light illuminating him. Blaine was taken aback with his new friend's breathtaking eyes. He needed to choke off that right _now, _though. If Kurt wasn't gay, and the last thing he wanted to do was to estrange his only friend with unwelcome advances.

"Yeah, I'm starving actually. I was going to grab some lunch at the mall when I got there. I had some chips and a Coke at Wes' before I left his place, though." Blaine tried to sound blasé, and shrugged off the intimate atmosphere of the room, with just the two of them there. It was hard to remember the strange turn his life had taken when that thunderstorm came up so fast, when he watched Kurt, feeling strangely comfortable in his presence.

Kurt merely nodded at Blaine's confession of hunger, deciding the items he'd listed were likely edibles of some sort. It felt to him like Blaine was an exotic foreigner, perhaps like Ali Baba, come alive from the pages of his story book. Blaine watched him unwrap the cloth from around the loaf of bread, place it on a plank of wood and saw off some slices, and put them and the cheese on a plate beside the bowl of freshly churned butter. He poured the crock of soup into a pan over the cooking section of the stove to warm and dipped a tumbler of water for each of them from the bucket, before he rinsed out the tea pot with another and set the kettle to boil. Kurt decided he would make mint tea, more restful for the stomach in the evening than the black china tea he preferred in the mornings. It took a few minutes before the soup was steaming in bowls in front of them, as they each devoured a sandwich with it.

It took longer to do the same things, but they'd ended up somewhere familiar to Blaine when they sat down to eat. They had finished their meal, with their dishes pushed to the centre of the table and silence had settled over them again. The mint tea was nearly gone and Blaine was distracted from stressing about where he was, by watching Kurt blinking sleepily. He suddenly pictured himself holding him and letting him sleep in his arms, so he could kiss him awake in the morning. Oh good grief, Blaine, cut it out! There are more important things to think about than how hot Kurt was. Get a grip on your hormones!

Kurt rose tiredly from the table and poured a couple dippers of tepidly warm water into a white granite dishpan on the dry sink. He set the dishes in the water and was about to wash them when Blaine touched his arm and volunteered to do it for him. Everything seemed to take twice as long as it did in his time, so no wonder Kurt seemed exhausted. Kurt let him wash their dishes, instructing Blaine to rub the cloth on the block of homemade soap on the edge of the dry sink, before he scrubbed the dishes with it. It was tedious, but it worked well enough. Kurt dried the dishes, and put them away again with his father returning home just as they finished.

"Dad, how was your visit with Mrs. Hudson? Did you have a nice dinner with just the two of you? I see you wisely waited until it stopped raining before you came home." Kurt had a teasing note in his voice that made his father laugh. He thought he'd been secretive, but Kurt had been told by Mrs. Hudson's son Finn, that he had been asked to make plans to visit with a friend, and leave her to entertain her suitor in scandalous privacy. Finn had warned Burt that he'd better have honourable intentions toward his mother, before he left, so Burt quietly assured him he would soon ask him for his mother's hand in marriage. He had intended to tell Kurt tonight too, but found he wasn't alone in the kitchen, and put it off

"Dinner was great, and so was the visit. Who is our visitor, Kurt?" Burt had his hand out in a friendly welcome, before Kurt could introduce Blaine.

"This is Blaine Anderson, Dad. Blaine, this is my father, Burt Hummel. We met quite by chance today. I was on my way home from a visit with the Jones' when the sky grew dark as night and terribly ominous. Rain was blowing sideways with the wind and the sky turned an even more dreadful colour. Then a blast came out of the heavens and I was suddenly looking up from where I lay in the road. Blaine was struck senseless by the same bolt. When we regained our senses, we assisted each other back to the Jones' cabin, to seek shelter from Anita until the storm passed. She gave us dry clothes and refreshed us with hot tea. Blaine is unable to continue his journey tonight, so I knew you wouldn't mind that I extended an invitation to him to stay the night with us."

"Of course I don't mind. You're welcome to stay here, Blaine. I can't believe you both survived being electrified by a bolt of lightning. You both could have _died _today_! _What were you doing out in such a storm, Kurt? You should have taken shelter under a tree or something."

Blaine tilted his head in disbelief. He thought everyone knew not to go near a tree when there was lightning, and couldn't help saying so. "Actually, under a tree is not a very good place to be in a storm. They act like lightning rods. Kurt and I were probably struck _because_ we were near some trees." Blaine said softly.

"I had no idea it was going to get so bad, so quickly. " Kurt interjected. "It was ominous and cloudy when I left there, but it had been so all day. The deluge blew up so quickly, I had no chance to reach shelter. Blaine too, I believe." They looked at each other and smiled at surviving their mutual brush with death.

"Well I'm glad the good Lord still has plans for one or both of you. Will Blaine be staying with you in your room tonight? Our parlour couch is not very comfortable, but if you prefer privacy we could make up a pallet in there for you."

"He can sleep with me, Dad. He won't get any rest on that plank of a couch in the parlour." Kurt interrupted quickly. He was fine with sharing his bed with Blaine. They were already well acquainted and they'd shared a near escape from death. He wanted to continue their association for longer, before their paths likely parted forever tomorrow. It was quite common practice to share your bed with a house guest, though Kurt hadn't actually shared since his Aunt Katherine had briefly visited five years previously. The Hummel's seldom entertained company.

Blaine glanced to Kurt in confusion. He was going to sleep with Kurt tonight? Oh good lord. Had these people never heard of a guest room? He hoped that his attraction to Kurt stayed under control, or he was going to be stuck here without a friend, and right now that meant too much to him to give up. He had half talked himself into asking to sleep in the parlour, but he really didn't want to stay alone in there either, realizing that terrrified kid inside him wasn't too deep below the surface. He watched Burt take a ewer down from a shelf curiously and fill it from the cistern at the back of the stove.

"Well, I'll let you take care of him then, Kurt. See you in the morning, boys. You don't need to come to the shop tomorrow, Kurt. We'll be fine without you until Blaine gets home. Good night." He went to the stairway and went up to bed to read for a bit by the light of his lamp.

"We should probably go to bed soon too. I find I'm quite tired." Kurt said, with a warm sleepy note in his voice that made Blaine want to enfold him in his arms. He merely nodded his agreement, feeling pretty whacked himself. Kurt took down another ewer and began to fill it with repeated dips of a long handled cup from the heated water in the cistern.

"The outhouse is at the right of the backyard, if you want to take that candle with you out there." Kurt offered to let Blaine go first, not noticing his freaked out look as he filled the ewer.

An outhouse! Ew, yuck. Oh well, if that was the deal, he didn't have much choice but to figure it out. Blaine lit the candle and reluctantly went on an expedition in the dark, grateful it wasn't pouring rain anymore. He found his way to a small wooden hut and opened a creaky door to find a well-worn board with a circular opening in it. He daintily perched himself on it and listened to the echo coming from quite far below, while he had a long overdue leak. It really wasn't all that bad, he decided. He'd expected it to smell worse than it did.

Kurt added another larger piece of wood to the stove and buried it in the ashes, banking the fire again to smolder overnight, hopefully without it going out. He took the candle from Blaine when he returned and went outside before bed too, leaving him in the kitchen with a small oil lamp. It was far easier in the summer, and less smelly in the heat, to just go outside than empty his chamber pot in the morning, which they were forced to do in the winter months. Blaine waited for him to return in the dim silent house, feeling the fear creep up on him again when he was alone. He took the ewer himself before he let Kurt light their way up the stairs.

Blaine followed behind his host, trying to keep his eyes on the stairs instead of watching Kurt's ass at his eye level. It was probably lucky that he could see almost nothing in this light, because he fully intended to treat Kurt with the respect he deserved. Kurt pushed open the wooden door for him, and Blaine entered his dim room. The patchy moon light illuminated his way to his washstand, before Kurt followed behind him and the shadows lengthened on the wall. He watched Kurt set down the lamp carefully on the bedside table.

Kurt then poured half the water from the jug into a basin on his washstand. "You can wash first while I disrobe. Would you, um…like to borrow a nightshirt to sleep in?" The night had remained quite warm, the humidity keeping the air nearly as warm as the day had been. Blaine blinked at Kurt blankly, wondering what he should say. He normally slept in only his boxers during the summer. Would that freak Kurt out?

"Well…what do _you_ usually sleep in? Do you wear a nightshirt?" Blaine had never seen _anyone_ actually _wear_ a nightshirt, other than Ebenezer Scrooge, but maybe it went for normal now. He would only wear one if he had to, to keep Kurt from being uncomfortable.

"I wear them only in the winter, but it has to be really cold. I _hate_ the dreadful things. They tend to knot around me till I feel like I'm going to strangle." Kurt self-consciously quirked his mouth at him.

"So what _do_ you wear to sleep?" Blaine prayed that Kurt's answer wasn't 'nothing'. He'd had a couple of dates with some boys but other than some tentative and halting exploratory making out in his car, he had never had a man's body completely next to his, much less in a bed. It sounded great, at first thought, to sleep with Kurt naked, but he knew it would soon turn into a major problem, if he wasn't allowed to touch.

"I usually just go without, but I'll wear my under-clothes, if that makes you uncomfortable." Kurt waited nervously for his response. Was Kurt feeling anything close to what he was? Trepidation, excitement, nerves? Crap, now he was freaked out at sharing a bed with a boy he wanted to treat with extra care, since he was his only lifeline.

"Ah…yeah, wearing our under-clothes works fine for me. We call them 'shorts' where I'm from though." Blaine said shyly, feeling a little awkward.

"All right then, shorts it is." Kurt said with a shy smile in return, unhooking his suspenders with his thumbs and beginning to undo his fly buttons. Blaine stood and stared for a minute before he realized he was going to look creepy if he watched Kurt for much longer. He turned and went to the washstand, finding a bar of lightly scented white soap on a saucer beside the basin. He took a flannel square from the pile on the corner of the wash stand and did the best he could to clean up.

By the time he finished, Kurt was down to his weird under pants, likely waiting for his turn to wash, while he turned down the bed. Blaine wrung out the flannel square and draped it over the wash basin and then lowered his own suspenders. Kurt stepped over to the wash basin and carefully poured out the water he had used into the chamber pot beside the wash stand, refilled the basin and began to wash his face. Blaine found himself staring, while Kurt couldn't see him looking. His pale skin glowed in the light of the candle. His arms and legs were long and leanly muscled, with a light dusting of brown hair, though his chest appeared to be completely hairless. Blaine watched his muscles moving under his skin, betting Kurt was much stronger than he looked at first glance.

Just heaving the water jug around, bringing in firewood and walking everywhere would keep you in that great shape without having to work out. Blaine sighed with exasperation, and prayed for strength. Kurt had a truly hot body….and he was going to sleep next to it tonight. Kurt was his friend, so he had to restrain his body's impulses toward inappropriate behavior.

Kurt dried his face with a towel and turned to smile at him. "You sound like you're tired too", completely unconscious of how amazing he looked in that light.

Blaine nodded his agreement, realizing it was true as he sat on the bed and pulled his legs out of the pant legs. "I didn't realize how tired I was until I saw your bed."

He folded his pants over the same chair Kurt had left his on. Everything was cotton and wrinkled easily, so he would have to take care not to toss it onto the floor like he might do at home. He put his feet into the bed and sckooched down until he could lie down and pulled the covers up over him. He sighed again, the feeling of safety and warmth unexpectedly relaxing, as he felt the bed shift and the springs creak when Kurt got into bed next to him. He felt secure here, even though he was so far away from everything and everyone he knew, adrift in the tides of time.

"Good night Blaine. I hope everything looks better in the morning." His friend said in the dark, after he blew out the lamp.

"Thanks Kurt. Sleep well." He turned on his side facing away from Kurt and was surprised to feel relaxed and sleepy in only seconds. In only a moment or two he was asleep, his even breathing telling Kurt he must have been completely exhausted.

Kurt lay in the dark, staring upward until Blaine unexpectedly rolled onto his back. He watched his new friend sleeping then, admiring his eyelashes lying on his cheeks in the moonlight. He felt a protective concern for Blaine that seemed a bit intense considering they had only met hours ago. He truly hoped they would stay friends, once he'd found his way home, his first male friend.

Now that he'd had time to think rationally, he realized that Blaine couldn't really be from another time. That must be a flight of fancy created by an electrical charge scrambling Blaine's brain. He didn't care. Blaine was sensitive and very sweet. He found himself completely captivated by him.

Kurt took a moment to think about that feeling, knowing it wasn't quite the way he should feel about another man he'd only just met. He had admired other boys at times, though he didn't much care for most of their behavior. Boys were often rude and completely insensitive. He admired some girls too, since he had more in common with them. But he was so terribly excited to have found a boy who seemed more like him than anyone he'd ever met before, um…baring his mental imbalance, of course.

The immediate connection he'd felt to Blaine had surprised him, considering his uneven temperament. Perhaps they were meant to be close friends, like he and Mercy were. He had to ensure Blaine didn't guess his growing attachment toward him, or he would certainly lose his friendship. Eventually the long day made him yawn and settle into sleep beside the comforting presence of his new friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Blaine woke several hours later in the dark, realizing his leg was thrown over Kurt's and his arm was lying on his chest. Kurt was nestled against him comfortably, fitting into his body quite naturally. Blaine slowly withdrew his arm and leg, trying not to disturb Kurt and let him know he had glommed onto him like that. Once he had put a few inches between them, Blaine rolled to his back again. He lay awake for an hour wishing he could forget how good Kurt had felt against him.

He was nearly asleep again when Kurt rolled toward him and snuggled up to his side once more. Blaine realized now that there was a hollow in the middle of the bed that they were taking turns rolling into, making them both guilty of trespassing into each other's space. He smiled down at Kurt's nose snugged up against his shoulder. His hand was resting on his chest and his knee was lying against his leg. He decided their proximity wasn't too intrusive, so he went to sleep that way, comforted by his nearness.

Kurt woke up an hour or two later, realizing he was up against Blaine with an embarrassing situation tenting his unmentionables. Oh my god, no! He rolled back a bit, his reaction upsetting him inordinately. Was he the kind of man who preferred other men? He'd heard rumours that such men existed, but never before had he thought he might _be _one...until now. Why did he want to feel Blaine's body pressing against him? He would think he was a disgusting freak! A half heard sound of distress disturbed Blaine, as Kurt suddenly withdrew his warmth from him.

Blaine slowly opened his eyes, paralyzing Kurt with fear. Oh god, how would he explain it wasn't anything personal? Kurt quickly squeezed his eyes closed, pretending he was asleep. Blaine gazed at Kurt in the moonlight, wondering if he'd dreamed the sound that had woken him. He would have sworn he heard Kurt make a whimpering sound, but he was all quiet now...but, maybe too quiet.

His breathing was shallow and irregular and his face didn't look relaxed at all. Crap, he wasn't asleep at all. Why would he pretend he was though? Had Blaine done something strange to upset him? Had he groped him and freaked him out or something creepy?

"Kurt?" Blaine breathed out his name, hoping he would talk to him. He needed to explain to him, and pray it would make things only slightly awkward between them. Kurt opened his eyes, still hoping Blaine would think he had just awoken.

"Did I…do something strange to you in my sleep, Kurt? I'm really sorry if I did. I don't want to lose you as a friend. I don't mean anything by it." Blaine whispered his apology, hoping Kurt would understand and not kick him out of his bed and his house. He really liked him, even if they could only be friends.

"What? Did _you_ do…? No, I…it was _me_ who was behaving inappropriately. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable" Kurt whispered back, wondering what Blaine meant. Did he mean he felt the same way? Was he not as strange as he'd thought?

A feeling of relief washed over Blaine at Kurt's confession. "Oh thank _god_. I was afraid you'd be all weirded out, if you were straight. You have no idea what a relief it is to know you're gay." Blaine spoke with relief obvious in his voice, but Kurt was still confused. What in god's name was Blaine talking about?

"Blaine? What does my emotional state have to do with waking up…? Um, rather too uncomfortably close to you?" Kurt needed to know _exactly_ what Blaine meant. He couldn't let this conversational mystery pass unexplained.

"Oh… I thought…I mean… oh god, Kurt. Please tell me I haven't jumped to conclusions! Are you, or are you _not_ gay?" Blaine was hoping to hell he hadn't screwed up. He really wanted Kurt to understand.

"Blaine, that word does _not_ suit this situation. It obviously has a meaning for you I'm not aware of. I need you to clearly explain to me what you are referring to." Kurt was becoming frustrated with his friend, rising to one elbow to see his face better. He needed all the interpretational clues he could get, if he was to understand this boy's strange expressions.

"Oh…yeah. I guess that word only came into common usage in the last fifty years or so. 'Gay' means homosexual, Kurt. I'm _gay_, which means I like boys instead of girls, romantically. I was kinda hoping you do too?" Blaine spelled it out as plain as he could for Kurt. He didn't want Kurt to have any doubt about what he meant.

Kurt looked at him in owlish surprise. Blaine came right out and _admitted_ it like it didn't matter at all and was waiting patiently for Kurt to answer him. Kurt dropped his eyes, and gave a tiny self-conscious shrug, trying his best to be as honest as Blaine had been. "I don't know, Blaine...maybe…but sometimes I get…oh lord." He closed his eyes and just blurted it, rambling the words together. "Sometimes I wake up in a state that would imply I'm intensely attracted to s_omeone_, but I'm not sure whether it's a girl or a boy I'm dreaming about. There's never been anyone I've felt attracted to that way in real life yet. " Kurt told himself that perhaps it had been just been Blaine's warmth and proximity causing that reaction, and he had dreamed of being with a girl.

"Oh… yeah. Well, that's normal, no matter which team you play on. You're still a guy and everybody gets woodies while they're sleeping, Kurt. What I'm talking about, is when your heart starts thumping when a boy gets close, and you want to feel their lips on yours. Look, I'm very attracted to you, but I can control myself, if you're not interested. How about for now, we'll pretend we're just a couple of friends with similar boner problems?" Blaine grinned at him teasingly, his teeth shining in the moonlight.

Kurt snorted, chuckling at his amusing wordplay on such an uncomfortable subject.

"As you wish, then. I think I'll just point mine the other way though, and perhaps it would be best if you would too." He turned over, relieved that Blaine seemed quite unconcerned by his tumescence. He wished he could feel as indifferent to knowing that Blaine seemed to have the same problem. They eventually went to sleep again, with only their backs in contact in the central well of Kurt's bed.

Blaine woke up first in the morning, with his dick reminding him he was sleeping next to a very attractive man who might, or might not, be attracted to him too. He groaned to himself, deciding he had to do something about his body's over-reaction to that idea, as soon as he got the chance, then found himself wondering if Kurt was going to do it too. He had to be kind of repressed, if he wasn't even sure which gender he was attracted to. He couldn't imagine not knowing for sure. He was tempted to just kiss him and then they would soon find out how he reacted. It wouldn't be fair to lay that on him without his permission, though. He sighed, deciding to roll over and watch Kurt sleep for a while.

He lay on his pillow and watched the pulse in his neck beating almost imperceptibly, and his eyelashes resting on his lightly freckled cheeks. His mouth was opened a bit, and he was breathing softly and deeply, through soft pink lips, with his chest rising and falling gently. Blaine got distracted by staring at his smooth pink nipple rising and falling on his chest and missed Kurt's eyes opening slowly. He saw the look on Blaine's face, with his tongue touching his lips like he was licking them, as he stared at his body. It was unnerving sometimes the way Blaine looked at him, like he was hungry and hadn't eaten in days.

Kurt thought for a moment about what Blaine had admitted. He liked boys…romantically, not a just a friend, and said he was attracted to _him_. Kurt had no idea if he might feel the same but had to admit that Blaine seemed very attractive to him, with his curly hair, and sleekly muscled body. He began to imagine what it would feel like to kiss him, but suddenly decided that was totally inappropriate just now, while he was lying next to him. What if he tried kissing him … Oh no. Blaine might assume he had made up his mind. His heart began to pound at just the thought of it, whether with trepidation or titillation, he couldn't guess.

Blaine saw a pink flush wash down Kurt's chest and glanced up to his face and smiled at him, his head resting on his bent arm. "Good morning. You look pretty wonderful this morning."

Kurt blushed even harder, as Blaine smiled back at him. It was a relief that Kurt knew how he felt about him now. Even if he didn't return his feelings, he didn't have to hide them anymore.

"You shouldn't say things like that." Kurt said shyly. Blaine felt a pang, assuming he'd made Kurt uncomfortable "I'm going to become much too vain." He smiled at Blaine coyly.

Oooh! He was flirting with him! "Then stop being so adorable. I should probably go brush my teeth before I get myself into trouble." Blaine's eyes travelled down Kurt's chest again, unapologetically appreciative, then rose to his face again and smiled, his eyebrows waggling.

Oh my god! Kurt decided to get the hell out of there, right this moment. In no way was he ready to explore having a sexual relationship with _anyone_, much less with another man in his bed!

"I…..I. I should get some breakfast going." Kurt wriggled away and leapt out of the bed. He immediately grabbed a pair of pants from a hook on the wall and struggled to put them on, turning his back to Blaine's interested gaze.

Blaine felt horrible about freaking Kurt out like that, like a stereotypical predatory gay. For all his good intentions, he still couldn't resist watching Kurt dress, as he bent over to put first one leg into them and then the next, glancing nervously over to the bed as he did up the buttons in the wrong buttonholes. Blaine smiled at him shyly, having been caught watching him again. Oh hell! He really should back off.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I promise I'll try to behave better from now on. You don't have to worry about me pulling anything on you. Fair enough?" Blaine held up his hand in a pledge, with an apologetic squint, hoping Kurt would forgive yet _another_ lapse in his manners. Kurt deserved his respect, no matter how he swung. The last thing he wanted was for him to be afraid of him.

"Thank you. I appreciate you giving me some time to think about it, Blaine. I know I like you, but I don't know if it's like _that_. But in any case, I am not ready for any type of intimate contact yet. Have you ever…with anyone else?" Kurt had to know how Blaine had discovered his own preference. "How did _you_ decide you liked…boys?"

"Well, I've known for about four years that I like guys, since puberty hit and my gym class turned into a daily dose of soft porn." Blaine snorted as he rolled his eyes, and smiled at Kurt in amusement.

Kurt's perplexed look clued Blaine that he'd said something incomprehensible again. "Oh…yeah, gym. Boys change together in one room, to prepare to exercise at my school. Naked boys started getting me hot…excited…horny. Capisce? I had to start changing in a booth, to keep from staring at them, I guess a lot like I was just staring at you. It was a bad scene for all of us. " Blaine laughed nervously, hoping Kurt was getting his meaning. He supposed if he'd never had the chance to see another boy without his clothes, how did you know if he turned you on? They had changed together yesterday and he'd caught Kurt watching him. On the other hand, Blaine had been plenty turned on, even by fully dressed guys, guys like Kurt for example.

Kurt made an awkwardly apologetic face for his ignorance, and asked Blaine another question. "What's 'soft porn'?" He had unerringly picked out the phrase that made Blaine blush too. He braced himself and explained as best he could.

"Well… it's kind of sexy shows. People make movies, right? Uh…well, a movie is a recording of stories acted out, like plays you can watch in your home or in a theatre. There are some that are made particularly to turn people on, and they're called pornography. Most of it is unredeemed graphic trash, of people just fucking endlessly, but there's kind of a crossover grey area, where there _is_ a plot during which people happen to be having sex and hopefully, its not too explicit to be disgusting. That might be considered soft porn."

Kurt face transmitted his horror. "People _watch _other people having sex? For entertainment? Oh my goodness! That's just depraved!" Kurt said, sounding prim as a maiden aunt. "I prefer things the way they are now. People are entitled to privacy when they…." He was buttoning up his shirt now, getting those buttons all cross buttoned too, in his skittish reaction to Blaine's explanation.

"Well, there is supposed to be an age limit of nineteen to watch it, but they have it available on pay TV and you can rent almost anything. I don't like most porn. You just end up all horny with no place to go with it. Your right arm can only do so much for you." Blaine shrugged at Kurt who was staring at him in shock again.

Did Blaine mean what he thought he might mean? Surely he… Kurt's eyebrows were so high, they were lost under the shock of hair hanging over his forehead.

Blaine had to challenge him. Kurt was a guy, damn it, he had to do it too.

"Everybody does it, Kurt. Even you, I'd bet. What else are you supposed to do when you wake up all hot with one of those dreams? Teenagers have them all the time, and there's nothing else you can do to relieve the tension except have a short, sweet romance with your hand. God, you'd probably explode if you didn't." Blaine rolled away to the other side of the bed, deciding he should get up too.

He saw Kurt watching him from the corner of his eye. He didn't let on he'd noticed him watching, as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head and groaned. He was showing off, he knew. Kurt was staring at him, with his mouth dropped open. That was a good sign, hopefully. Or maybe he was just freaking out again.

"Um. Do you have any pants that would fit me better than the ones we borrowed from Mr. Jones? I feel like I'm wearing clown pants in those. Not that I wasn't grateful for them, but I'd rather wear something that fits me better." Kurt nodded, grateful for the change of subject, and opened a wooden box lined with cedar under his window. He knelt and sorted through some stacks of clothes before he pulled out a pair of dark trousers that looked brand new, and held them out to Blaine with a quirked smile.

"Aren't these a pair of suit pants? I don't want to wreck your good stuff." Blaine glanced over to Kurt who had gone to his dresser to brush his hair with a silver-backed paddle brush that looked rather feminine. Blaine correctly guessed that it might be his mother's.

"Yes, go ahead and wear them. They're too short for me now anyway. I thought I might need them for a wedding but I underestimated my growth potential. They're let out as far as they go now, and they're still too short. You can keep them if you want." Kurt watched him closely, as he put them on, not flinching away from staring at him either. Fair enough, he supposed. He accepted the plain white shirt he passed him and donned it too. It fit him perfectly, so it was probably too short in the arms for Kurt too, who was a bit taller all over than Blaine. He regrettably favoured his petite mother, instead of his average-sized father.

Blaine donned the vest that went with the pants and admired the watered silk blue bow tie that Kurt handed him to complete the outfit. He finished his buttons about the same time Kurt finally got his straightened out. "Thanks Kurt. These are really nice. Did you really make them? I love nice clothes too, but I could never make anything for myself."

"There is nowhere else I can find what I want around here, Blaine. I can't wait six months for things to be shipped from Europe or New York, because I'll have grown out of them by the time they get here." Kurt said, his voice soft. Now Blaine would think he was stranger than ever.

"Wow. You really made these for a wedding? You mean your father and Mrs. Hudson? Are you okay with your dad remarrying?" Blaine pulled down on the points of the vest and admired what he could see in the small mirror over Kurt's dresser. Kurt was incredibly talented if he could make clothes like these.

"Yes, I certainly am. I'm extremely grateful that he won't be left alone when I go to University, after next year. And Carole is a lovely woman. That's why I introduced them in the first place."

"It's great when a plan works out, right?" Blaine grinned to Kurt with his eyes twinkling.

Kurt smiled his agreement as he poured the dirty water from the basin and the chamber pot back into the ewer, and dried them with the flannel before he passed Blaine the unlit lamp. They went down the stairs together, and Blaine watched Kurt pour the water over the porch railing on some rose bushes with pink buds about to burst open. He rinsed out the jug and set it back on the shelf over the stove.

Blaine took another unenthusiastic walk out to the outhouse, while Kurt started the fire going with some fresh wood. He was amused to see in the daylight, conveniently near at hand on the bench, an _actual_ Sears and Roebuck catalog in the outhouse, though there was also a stack of clean rags, with a jar of water, presumably to help clean up with . Perhaps the catalog was there only for reading material? It was dated for the current year, he saw.

He browsed for a while, laughing out loud at the descriptions of some of the stuff and how cheap it was. Twelve cents for a writing tablet! Thirty cents for a man's straw hat. And a dollar and twenty cents for a pair of sturdy boots. How did one guess the size, he wondered? Ah, you measured your foot in inches. How practical! He flipped to the section on men's underwear, hoping to check out the models, like he did with the ones in the fliers at home. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to see they didn't even show the clothing, much less people wearing them. He suddenly realized he'd been out there for far too long and got his ass back to the house.

"I was starting to worry. Is everything all right?" Kurt asked him, not sure if he should ask. God knew what kind of strange customs surrounded the necessary house where Blaine came from.

"I got carried away reading your Sears and Roebuck catalog. Sorry, I shouldn't have monopolized the facilities when you hadn't even gotten a chance to have a whiz yet." Blaine apologized for the second time in an hour to his host. He was starting to feel like he was barely civilized, and heaven only knew what Kurt thought of him.

"And a whiz is…?" Kurt raised his eyebrows in inquiry, deciding the only way to ever know definitively what Blaine was talking about was to ask him outright.

"A tinkle…a leak…a weewee. There are other words that are cruder, but I'll spare your tender ears those. Sorry. It seems I'm definitely not the most thoughtful of guests, to say the least." Blaine felt like a jerk, letting Kurt sit and wait, while he worried about him.

"Oh. Well, I just went back upstairs and used the pot. No difficulty. As long as you promise to tell me if there is anything you need or want, that we don't have here, I don't mind you making yourself at home. We can probably work something out." Kurt said with a shrug.

"Actually, I was hoping we could find a toothbrush. Is that something you even have around here?"

"They're not in widespread use around here, but yes, I have a spare one for you. I use one regularly, but I don't care much for the baking soda my father insists I must use on it. My mother learned the habit in her childhood and convinced my father the soda was necessary. I usually cheat and just use it with just a light dusting." Kurt confessed lightly as he dished out some porridge into two bowls and set one in front of him. Blaine found himself watching Kurt and not really listening to what he said, so he just smiled admiringly at him. Kurt looked at his dish and then to him, expectantly.

Hm. Blaine eyed the grey glop unenthusiastically, since he was not normally a fan of porridge. Kurt poured a generous dollop of honey on his, and set the honey and a pitcher of milk in front of him before he picked up his spoon and began to eat. Blaine poured milk and honey on his too and stoically decided he was going to eat it, no matter what. There was no way he was going to apologize to Kurt _again _for being an ingrate of a guest. He was quite surprised to find it was actually fairly tasty. They had both almost finished when the door opened and Anita came in, unwrapping her shawl from her shoulders.

"Good mornin', young gentlemen. I expect you had a passably fine night if you're still eating breakfast. Are you feeling more yourself today, Mr. Blaine?" She smiled at him warmly and went to the stove to see what was happening in the fire box. She closed it again, satisfied with the state of the fire. She knew Kurt was just as adept at cooking on the woodstove as she was, but had to check it anyway. She considered it as part of her job, as housekeeper.

"It's just Blaine, Anita. Either I call you Mrs. Jones or you call me Blaine. We're all just friends here, right?" Blaine did not want Kurt's best friend's mother calling him Mr. Blaine, like he was some kind of plantation owner and she was….holy cow! She was probably old enough to remember when people could be owned, and considered someone's property.

Blaine impulsively jumped out of his seat and surprised Anita with a hug. "I just want to say, I'm sorry that people you probably_ know_, were once slaves. It was terribly wrong, and I want you to know that things are going to be very different in the future. One day the president of our great country will be black."

Anita stared at the strange young man Kurt had brought home with him. What an outlandish thing to say, even if he was very sweet to say it! "Thank you, Blaine. Do you really think so?"

"I _know _so. He's a very nice man, and he believes in equality for all kinds of people, even if he inherited a nightmare of an economy from the guy before him. Um…that is…he probably will." Blaine suddenly realized he had shot his mouth off and likely sounded completely crazy to the poor lady. She just looked at him warily and nodded at him, probably afraid he was going to go off on a rant again. She was actually thinking that it seemed Kurt's friend was still suffering the effects of his mishap.

"Anyway, I'm sorry." He finished lamely and sat down again. Kurt was looking at him nervously, aware that he had quite forgotten that Anita had no idea he believed he was from a different time.

"Well, I don't hold a grudge anymore at this late date, about being born a slave. No point in being bitter about things I cain't change, is there? I am proud that my daughter was the first generation of our family to be born free, after four of them born in slavery, though." She smiled at Blaine, proud of her independent family, before she resumed her bustling around the kitchen.

"At any rate…you boys had enough to eat, just now? I was thinking I might make some sweet biscuits for lunch, with those nice currents I got last week. I brought some cream cheese from Gracie Adams that would go well with them, and I'm gonna make some fresh watercress soup. That sounding good to you, Kurtie? Then I'm going over to Carrigan's after lunch to get a piece of ham for your supper, and I brought a fresh-baked loaf of bread and some of your favourite pumpkin pickle to go with it too." She ran a hand over Kurt's hair in a gesture of fondness that spoke volumes about her feelings for the boy sitting in front of her.

He smiled at her and patted the hand she'd left on his shoulder in return. "That sounds wonderful Anita, but I think Blaine and I might take a ride over to Findlay today on the morning coach. We should go soon, if we want to make sure we get on it. Save us some of those biscuits, would you?

It's a faint possibility I might stay the night, if we should find Blaine's family, so don't worry if we're not here for dinner." Kurt stood and kissed her cheek as he took his bowl to the dish pan and left it there. Blaine cleaned up the dregs of his bowl and left his with Kurt's. Anita quickly made up and wrapped a couple of sandwiches in a cloth for them to take with them while they donned their shoes.

Kurt eyed Blaine's leather deck shoes curiously. "Did you want to borrow some stockings? I had forgotten you don't have any. I wouldn't want you to get blisters on your feet."

"They're Topsiders, so I shouldn't get blisters, but thanks anyway. I hate wearing socks in the summer. Um… Kurt? Are people going to think I'm strange if I don't wear them? I don't want you to be embarrassed by me." Blaine gave a second thought to not wearing socks. He had to blend in if he didn't want to be noticed.

"No, it's quite common to not wear them in the summer. If you're comfortable that way, that's fine with me. You do have rather nice ankles, I must say." Kurt complimented Blaine awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't think he was strange. Women's ankles were often admired but no one _ever _said anything like that about a man. Blaine had some very nice attributes, he had found himself admiring. He was starting to believe he might be another of Blaine's type. Gay. The word itself was not offensive. What was he thinking? People like that were reviled and hated. He couldn't see himself as one of them.

"Thank you. That's sweet of you to say." Blaine winked at him, with a pleased smile at Kurt's comment, and Kurt blushed self-consciously, sorry now that he'd said anything.

They walked to the public house on the main intersection of the town, where Kurt paid for one way tickets for both of them, not sure when, or _if _Blaine would be returning with him, if they found his family. They crossed the square to wait for the coach on the green, seating themselves on the grass in the shade. Blaine reclined on the grass, stretching comfortably, with Kurt observing him from the corner of his eye. He found himself watching him often, his body fascinating him. His face was beginning to show a dark shadow of stubble, as opposed to Kurt's smooth cheeks. Kurt rested his chin on his knees, deciding that until he knew whether he would ever see Blaine again after today, that there was no point in allowing himself to become too fond of him. Mercedes was his best friend, and he didn't need another. Hopefully he wasn't another like Blaine who preferred men over the company of women…well…rather more than just their company.

If he was…homosexual, then it was a lifelong condition. He would never give his father the grandchildren he hoped for. Perhaps it was a good thing that his father had confessed to Kurt that he intended to propose marriage to Mrs. Hudson very soon. She had a son who attended school with him, a very attractive son, Kurt recalled with an enlightened roll of his eyes, who could be the source of grandchildren for them. If his nature included an attraction to men, he would certainly suffer a short, rather eventful life if _that_ information became common knowledge in this area.

The only person he knew of, of whom he had heard whispers of homosexuality, had purportedly been trampled to death by his very docile and aged horse a year or so ago. He sighed mournfully, aware that he would have to seek employment in a large city, where he could find someone with similar tastes and remain anonymous. His father's idea of becoming a lawyer or doctor held more and more attraction, though he regretted that he would see very little of his father or Mercy once he moved away, with travel being as difficult as it was.

"What are you thinking about, Kurt? You look like you're kind of down." Blaine was watching him, with concern showing on his face. Kurt merely shrugged and mumbled vaguely, "the future", not willing to confess yet that he suspected he was gay too and how dejected he felt about the revelation.

"Hey buddy, it's not so bad. You know you're not alone either, right?" Blaine sat up and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder and smiled encouragingly, knowing what was probably bugging Kurt. Well no, today he wasn't alone, but how long was Blaine going to be around? Becoming romantically involved with any man, here in Ohio, was far too dangerous. He smiled back at him half-heartedly, but Blaine could tell he was still unhappy.

Bummer! He didn't mean to bring Kurt down, by making him think he might be queer. Blaine realized Kurt's situation would be a whole different thing than it was in his day, though sometimes it was no picnic then either. What the hell would Kurt do, if Blaine ever did get home again, and he was left here alone? It would be Brokeback Mountain all over again if he ever got caught with some guy around here. He wished now that he'd never mentioned the possibility to Kurt, though if he was gay, he was likely going to figure it out eventually, though by then he would be older and hopefully safer, living in a large city.

The future was an unknown quantity for both of them and no one could know how it might unfold.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Blaine was fed up from the constant bumping over the hot, dusty roads. It was nearly impossible to carry on a conversation with Kurt over the rumble of the coach wheels and he was tired of trying to not slide into strangers with every lurch of the wheels over these primitive roads. He was trying to breathe shallowly. People's hygiene could certainly use some improvement since the b/o was getting a lot stronger, the warmer the day became. What was the point of going there anyway? It wasn't like his parents would be there waiting for him, when he was stuck a hundred and thirty five years in the past. But he couldn't afford to pass up any slight chance of finding a way out of this mess he was in.

Kurt was very quiet now, looking paler and more unhappy-looking the longer they rode.

Blaine whispered to him, though he tried to remember to respect his space, the way people seemed to do here and now. "Are you feeling sick? You look really pale."

Kurt nodded, with a quick desperate glance to Blaine, before he closed his eyes in pain. His head was aching and his stomach was queasy. He _hated_ riding the coach. After the first hour or so, he always got a headache and felt wretched. They finally pulled into Findlay after three more interminable stops along the way to let some people off and others on. After a short tour around the town they found their way into the closest tavern and shared their sandwiches and some ginger beer in the sparsely occupied room. Kurt's headache began to fade, now that he was stationary, after some fresh air.

Blaine confessed to Kurt in a low voice as they ate that he recognized very little in Findlay. The two big churches and a couple of large houses were the only familiar buildings he saw. Even the old house that would one day house the Black Heritage Centre wasn't built yet. The location of the street he would one day live on was currently sprouting little green sprigs of corn a foot high. He was incredibly grateful for Kurt's company, feeling hopeless about ever finding his way home at all. At least he wasn't all alone here years before anyone he knew was even born.

Kurt tried to hide the fact that he was relieved by Blaine's reaction. Though it meant that Blaine could _actually_ be from the future, at least he wasn't completely crazy or his brain scrambled by the lightning strike. He realized he truly had started believing his new friend's story when he first talked about being homosexual in such an unconcerned way. No one born in this time would feel that way about being …well, what most people now considered perverted.

Kurt said they could go all the way to Westerville tomorrow to check Dalton Academy, if he wanted, but what was the point? Blaine knew there would be no one there he knew. Dalton Academy itself would be the only familiar face, but she was a young ingénue now instead of being the grand old lady he thought of her as, in his time. Blaine was feeling more and more despondent at finding nothing and no one he knew. Kurt wished he knew what to do to console him, besides offer his friendship.

The coach to return to Lima didn't go through town again until five o'clock, so they had some time to kill. They went to the town's green, where Blaine watched a travelling salesman selling a tonic out of his wagon, in a singsong patter that rose and fell like the ocean. He was shaken out of his depression by watching the crowd listening to the hawker, standing on the back of his wagon, the hypnotic rhythm preventing him from dwelling on his circumstances. Kurt raised one eyebrow at Blaine, wondering if he believed in the efficacy of the sort of things that were sold on the back of a wagon. Blaine noticed and explained his interest.

"I know it's all snake oil, Kurt. I'm not interested in whatever he's selling. The medicines those guys sold probably killed more people than they cured. Good grief, some had mercury and cocaine in them, which would definitely land you in trouble in the future. I just think it's way cool to actually watch one of these guys in action. They're extinct in my time, you know, just a cultural memory. It's almost musical, the way they recite their spiel about what they're selling."

When the salesman packed up his wagon and left to find new clientele, Kurt spent an hour or two asking Blaine questions about the future. He was most intrigued with Blaine's description of the entertainment industry. In this time, an entertainer could reach only a limited audience, and that was only increased by travelling endlessly throughout the country, from opera house to theatre to town square. He loved to sing, though many found his voice unexpected at first, he had been told it was quite pleasant to listen to. He shyly told Blaine that he had dreamed once of performing on a stage himself. Kurt was thrilled that they'd found a new common interest when Blaine said he shared the same dream.

Blaine badgered him until he sang a couple of songs for him, and his captivated expression told Kurt that he had adequately performed them. Blaine sang a couple for him too, though unfortunately neither of them discovered any songs they knew in common. Kurt was particularly taken by one called 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand" which Blaine said was one of his favourite love songs. The time passed quickly while they talked about music, and the strange parallel similarities in their lives. The sun was starting to dip over the trees when they returned to the tavern to wait for the coach. Kurt was fatalistic, knowing he would probably get another headache, but that was the price he had to pay to get home.

They returned to the Hummel's home, tired and hot after a long and unprofitable day, finding Anita had waited supper for them, hoping they would be home on the afternoon coach. Blaine had been able to forget for a while that he was far away from everything he knew…and everyone. Somehow spending time with Kurt had made it all fade away. Why couldn't he have met someone like Kurt in his own time? Why did he have to find him here, more than a century from where he belonged? If he ever did find a way home, he would have to leave Kurt behind and that really sucked. It was far more likely that he would me marooned here, so finding Kurt might be the only bright spot in his future.

They washed up for supper and when they entered the dining room, Blaine counted only three plates on the table, while Burt seated himself. "Doesn't Anita eat with us?" He whispered to Kurt, who shook his head negatively.

"No, she refuses to sit at the table with us. Don't think we haven't invited her, Blaine. She insists housekeepers don't eat at the table." Kurt shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Blaine decided it wasn't his place to mess with the Hummel's eating arrangements. For that matter, servants didn't eat at the table in his time either. Anita just seemed like so much more than a servant to the Hummels.

The men sat and ate, as Kurt explained to Burt and Anita that Blaine's family had unexpectedly left on a visit to relatives, assuming he would stay with his friends, who chose that time to go away too, trying to make it sound like an unfortunate miscommunication. Burt of course, insisted that Blaine stay with them, until he should find one or the other had returned.

Anita made no comment at all on the matter, but gave Kurt a doubtful glance of inquiry. She knew him well enough to know that something was going on, he could tell. He never got away with anything less than the truth around her, because somehow, she always knew when he was lying.

He knew that one of the things bothering was that she was worried that Blaine was trying to take advantage of them. Kurt shook his head unobtrusively, to reassure her that he didn't have any doubts about Blaine. She gave him a side eye, inferring she would reserve her own judgement until she knew more about him. Kurt knew she tended to believe people were sinners until they proved they were saints, but hoped she would come around to accept Blaine eventually. It would seem that Blaine might have to adjust to living here and now, with his help.

Anita had already decided she was gonna keep an eye on that sweet-faced boy and ensure he didn't take the Hummels for fools. Nobody got to hurt her Kurtie and not pay dearly for it, if _she_ had any choice in the matter. Anita kept her face carefully neutral, as she set the bowls of food on the table, and kept glasses filled, keeping her thoughts to herself. It was a skill she had learned early, as all slaves learned to school their faces at a young age.

Kurt would have been horrified if he'd known what she planned to do to Blaine, if he was trying to take advantage of Kurt's sweet, trusting nature. She was a warm loving woman, but it hadn't been _that_ many years since her old Mama taught her some simples that would make a man die a long slow miserable death, with his guts tied in knots. She remembered well enough how to brew up a dose of it, if she needed to. Her people had been healers and herbalists for generations, since long before they'd been torn from the land they farmed. She had learned many different recipes besides biscuits and johnnycake from her mother.

After dinner, the two boys went out to sit on the porch swing Burt had built years before for his young wife and talked in low voices, Kurt's hand shyly enfolded in Blaine's, their light teasing laughter carrying in to the parlour where Burt was reading his newspaper. Anita listened to the tone of their voices, as she prepared to leave for her own house and had a sudden revelation. That Blaine boy was sweet on Kurt! They sounded much more like a courting couple, instead of two boys just passing the time together.

She inhaled deeply in saddened realization. She'd had her own suspicions about Burt's boy, starting about the time Kurt and Mercy had had turned fourteen and continued to spend so much together. She watched them closely, when they thought they were alone, making sure he never overstepped into dangerous territory.

She'd had four brothers, so she knew boys, and how things started off innocently and then suddenly the innocence turned into surreptitious sneaking around and then there was often a hurried wedding or a quickly planned visit that turned into an extended stay with a distant relative, for a young girl in trouble. She loved Kurt a great deal, but she still wasn't going to let him ruin her daughter and give her a half-white grandchild to raise up. The two of them could _never _marry, if things went too far. It never even came close to happening though, as far as she could tell, and she saw nearly everything.

Kurt remained a perfect gentleman all along, not even seeming to notice when Mercy blossomed into a voluptuous young woman. He behaved more like one of her girlfriends than a young man, which was when she began to suspect his nature was different than most boys.

Her Mama had told her about a pretty boy-cousin of hers, her older sister's son, only four years older than she was, that was kept a catamite to his master when she was a still a young girl of ten or eleven herself. The boy's owner dressed him up in fine clothes, and treated him like a favorite pet, but he had no choice about submitting when he was told to, if he didn't want to be beaten. When emancipation came to the slaves ten years later, the poor young man was left adrift, with no useful skills except the one he hated. Sooner than have to earn his living that way, he hung himself in the barn. He'd never had a chance to give his love to anyone, always having it taken from him without his consent.

Anita shook her head of the disturbing image, hoping Kurt's fate would be far happier, though she too, had heard about the man whose broken body had been brought into town in the back of a wagon with the story put about that his horse had trampled him. She had learned from the woman hired to prepare his body for burying that there was not a single hoof print on him, though he had some dents about his head, likely from a stout stick, and boot prints on his belly, back and privates.

Kurt was a smart boy though, and his papa loved him, so maybe he could learn to escape detection. For starters, she had to ensure the boys hid their attraction far better than they were doing now, sitting out there courting on the porch for the whole town to see. She said her usual good night to Burt who replied absently from his newspaper and went quietly out the back door. She came alongside the house and paused, listening covertly beside the porch.

"You seriously sing well enough to earn a living at it, Kurt. Why don't you consider moving to New York or San Francisco and give it a try? You can live any way you want there too, a lot more easily and less risky than you can here. If I don't ever get home, maybe we could go there together. San Francisco is going to be the heart of the gay community one day, so that would be my first choice of destination. It's one hell of a long way from here though, for somebody who gets sick riding for a few hours on the coach. New York might have to be our first stop, till we earn enough for passage on the train. Oh… Does the train go all the way out west yet?"

Blaine excitedly considered how he and Kurt could survive in a world much less than hospitable to homosexuals. He had been absolutely blown away by Kurt's crystalline voice, finding something else to admire about him. Once people got to hear him sing, he just knew he would be famous in no time.

Kurt just laughed at Blaine. What kind of foolishness was he talking about? The two of them running away to New York or San Francisco to make a living on the stage! "Oh Blaine, don't get carried away by your dreams. Our first goal should be to get you home to your parents. They'll be worried sick about you by now. I know how _my_ father would feel if I couldn't get home. I don't know if I could move that far away from him, in any case…and what about Mercy? Blaine, she's my best friend. How can I just leave them behind?"

"Yeah, I know my parent's will wonder what happened to me, but Kurt, what if I can't _ever_ get home again. If I have to be stuck here and now, I'd really like it to be with you. I know we could be happy together."

Blaine hoped he wasn't rushing Kurt, talking about the two of them finding a future together. He knew he was starting to really care about the boy who'd been struck by the same bolt of lightning as he had. Maybe they would both be struck by love too …and _maybe,_ he was just a romantic fool dreaming of a future with a boy who wasn't even interested in sharing his life with him. He needed to be sensible, and not let his romantic notions gained from watching too many romcoms run away with him.

Anita had heard enough. Blaine was certainly trying to sweet talk Kurt into _something_. She went home then, trying to decide what to do about the boy. He seemed good-hearted, but she needed to find out if he was serious about Kurt, before she took action. Maybe, he could make her sweet Kurtie happy, at least the best he could be in this sorry cruel world.

"I think I'm beginning to feel the same way about you, Blaine, but I'm trying very hard to rein it in. I know I have to leave here someday, but I'm having trouble right now thinking of leaving everybody I love. First we have to try to get you back home though…it isn't safe here for you. You keep forgetting to act like you belong here. I hope you'll remember me, someday a long way from here, when you sing a love song for somebody you care about." Kurt hoped he wouldn't fall in love with Blaine. He didn't belong here, at all. He had to help him find a way to go home...and leave him behind.

Blaine nodded sadly, understanding Kurt's reasons for not wanting to accept his view of the future.

The boys went to bed an hour later, chased indoors by the mosquitos and the gnats and tired by the long day of travel, wishing Burt a good night. A little later, they were lying in the dark, with Blaine wishing he could follow his urge to hold the boy beside him. He was trying to think of how to ask Kurt if he might let him do that, when he felt him sink into the deep relaxation of sleep. Oh well, he had promised Kurt he wouldn't pressure him. It wasn't fair to, if he couldn't stay here with him.

He had to peel himself off of Kurt twice through the night, and once he wriggled out from under him splayed all over him. He groaned to himself with frustration. God, Kurt felt _so_ good against him. He really wished he could explore some of that smooth white skin. One of the times he felt Kurt against him he felt his dick stirring, half hard against his leg and it was all he could do to keep himself from groping him through the shorts that hid very little. Crap, he'd promised him he would behave himself, and he would, even if it killed him… and it might.

Blaine turned over again, facing away from Kurt and tried to put his warm inviting body out of his mind. It took him an hour to get to sleep again.

It was still dark when he woke to feel Kurt lying half on top him again, with his soft groan in his ear. God, this sleeping together was killing him. And now he could feel Kurt, hard against his leg. As Blaine lay immobile and frozen, Kurt thrust his hips against him and moaned at the pleasure he felt. Blaine grabbed a handful of the sheets to keep from grabbing Kurt in his arms. He felt his own body reacting, when Kurt's leg rose higher and rubbed against him, with his cock rising in his shorts. Fuck!

Blaine rubbed his face against Kurt's hair, still clutching the sheets desperately to keep himself from responding, but unable to resist that much. Kurt lifted his face unexpectedly and their lips met. Kurt suddenly surged onto him and kissed him with so much passion that Blaine's resistance dissolved into dust. He kissed him back, opening his mouth to let Kurt in, as they twisted against each other seeking more contact, more friction, more…

Suddenly Kurt recoiled in horror, his face transmitting his shock as he panted wildly, with his eyes wide looking down at him. Blaine felt bereft, the cold air rushing between them, where there had been such heat, in a sudden change in gears. He found he had to breathe himself then, with a soft grunt leaving his body when Kurt rolled off of him. Blaine felt somehow responsible, as if he had infected Kurt with his homosexuality. "I'm so sorry", he whispered, his face stricken with guilt.

"I…I was on top of you. Why are _you_ sorry?" Kurt answered, his voice low and wary. His breathing was starting to slow, and his eyes closed as he backed as far as he could from Blaine. There was an ache in his balls, from how close he'd been to losing all control. He knew it had been Blaine he was kissing in his dream, and Blaine he'd woken to find himself kissing. He'd never felt anything nearly that powerful about a girl, ever. The belated realization struck him that it seemed he was just as gay as Blaine was. He must have known subconsciously that he was homosexual for quite a while, because he wasn't even slightly surprised at his attraction.

"I feel like its my fault." Blaine whispered back. Why was he whispering? They could talk if they wanted to. There was no one else close by to hear them.

"I might have figured it out sooner, rather than later in my life, but it was always there, Blaine. You didn't cause my condition." Kurt whispered back uneasily. He might know now, but saying it out loud still felt uncomfortable.

"Being gay isn't a 'condition', Kurt. You're just a different version of normal, like being able to sing as well as you can makes you special, but believe me, not you're not defective." Blaine put his hand on Kurt's arm, in a platonic gesture. Well, it had started platonically, but now he could feel the muscles in his bicep and he remembered the feel of Kurt writhing on top of him. He pulled his hand back to cut short his reaction and met Kurt's eyes, with a shy smile. He could tell Kurt knew what he was feeling, because he felt it too.

"That is the difference between the time _you_ come from and now. Here, I am definitely defective. If anyone around here knew that about me, they would consider me a sin against nature, one that should be stamped out." Kurt sighed and shifted again, his erection finally starting to subside.

"They're wrong. You're perfect. You're graceful and sweet and …I … I'm starting to feel more than attraction about you." Blaine confessed his feelings, hoping Kurt would understand that being gay meant more than the physical stuff. It meant that when you fell in love, it was with a man. He'd felt something special for Kurt since the moment he'd met him. He'd felt like an anchor, a safe haven when everything around him was unknown and strange. "I'm so glad I met you on the road that day, Kurt."

Kurt smiled at him, but it was a sad wistful smile, never the less. Then he turned over and signaled that he wanted to go back to sleep. "Me too." Blaine heard him whisper, after a bit.

When Blaine woke up in the morning, he found Kurt watching him shyly with a bemused smile. "Hi, gorgeous."

He grinned back at Kurt, tickled at hearing Kurt echo his words of the previous morning.

"I was being facetious, Blaine. Your hair is getting downright ridiculous, you know." Kurt's smile widened as he gazed upward toward his hair.

Wait… his hair? He put up a hand to calm his curls and discovered they were positively crazy from his restless night.

"Yeah, well, I had a really rough night. I'm overdue for a bath to get these stupid curls calmed down again, and I need to shave. Geeze, I'd give my left nut for some hair gel." Blaine muttered in exasperation. Kurt continued to smile at the wild curly result of Blaine tossing and turning all night and not much worried about understanding what he was grousing about.

It was lucky that that Blaine remained unaware that Kurt was seriously considering what would happen if he leaned over to kiss him. Blaine's beard shadow was visibly thicker today, strangely making him look terribly masculine in an unkempt way. His curls were begging Kurt to run his fingers through them and his lips… Oh god, he wanted to do it, but he wasn't sure he was ready for the next step in their relationship.

What would happen _after_ he kissed Blaine? Kurt had not the faintest idea. He knew what men and women did together in bed. How could he not, when birds, sheep, cows, horses, dogs and cats demonstrated it everywhere he looked? But what did two men do? He'd seen the steers in the fields frustrated by their attempts to mate with each other. Was that his fate? To try unsuccessfully to mate with a man? To lie on top of Blaine, like he had done last night, unable to find any relief from the desperate want he felt, except what he could bring to himself.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, then he faltered nervously, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to know.

"Yeah?" Blaine saw Kurt's face flush with embarrassment as he struggled to find words to ask his question. "Just spit it out, Kurt. I promise I won't judge, no matter what you say." He smiled at him encouragingly, admiring his adorable blush, but understanding his difficulty in asking, when sex of any sort was never mentioned here.

"How…how do two men make love?" Kurt refused to meet Blaine's eyes as he flushed even more deeply. He didn't know if Blaine had ever done it, but his descriptions about porn suggested he at least knew _what_ to do.

"Oh. Well….with their hands, and their mouths and ….um. Well… sometimes one will fuck the other, in the ass." Blaine was blushing now too but he saw Kurt give him an uncertain look that said he was _extremely_ doubtful about whether he trusted his facts.

"Really, Kurt. Not everyone does that, but I hear most guys seem to like it. I've seen some porn, where the guy who bottoms _definitely_ liked it, but you can't really trust porn to be representative of real people. I've never actually….I mean, I've had a couple of casual boyfriends, but other than some kissing and making out, I'm… a virgin too." Blaine haltingly confessed that he was almost as inexperienced as Kurt. He didn't want to mislead him into thinking he knew what he was talking about.

"I would think that in reality, the experience would be rather too uncomfortable to enjoy it very much, wouldn't you, at least for the one…uh…underneath?" Kurt said doubtfully, in a very small voice.

"It can be, I guess…but… there's some preparation you can do first that can make it easier to handle, and you have to take your time and make sure you use lots of lube. I'm reserving judgement till I try it though." Blaine grinned at Kurt when he gasped at his statement.

"You're going to let somebody _fuck _you?" Kurt said, squeaking at him in shock, his astonishment obvious, from the fact that his voice was about an octave and a half over his normal speaking voice.

"Oh yeah! You bet I am. I'm saving it for somebody very special, but I definitely want to try it…both ways, giving and taking it. I also want to try sucking cock, but probably not as bad as I want somebody to suck mine." Kurt's mouth fell open again, but in a different kind of shock, just the thought of Blaine's mouth on him making him hard instantly. Oh my god, that must feel absolutely, positively incredible!

"In your mouuuu…." His voice faded away into a breathy moan of awe, as Blaine watched Kurt's face reflect the thought of oral sex. His eyes darkened, looking sexy as hell and he bit his lip and squirmed. It looked like Kurt was getting hot just thinking about it. Any guy would react that way about getting his first blow job, especially if he'd never heard of it before. He heard Kurt emit a soft gasp and his hips made a sudden involuntary jerk. Oh yeah, he was imagining how that would feel.

"You'd do that?" Kurt's voice was high and quavering, his excitement obvious now, with his face and shoulders flushing all pink and rosy and his eyes dark and smoky. Blaine just nodded emphatically. He shouldn't be this happy about getting Kurt all wound up, but he had to admit he loved seeing him like this.

Oh… my…god! Kurt knew he had to stop thinking about it or he was going to embarrass himself right here and _now_. Blaine had actually admitted he was looking forward to having a cock in his mouth…and having his mouth on … Ohhhh… my…god!

Kurt closed his eyes and tried desperately to think about something, _anything _else, abruptly beginning to recite poetry to distract himself from terribly dangerous thoughts. He muttered the words to the Headless Horseman to himself, finding himself finally unwinding a bit as he finished the second verse and went on to the third and fourth.

_On the black road through the wood, as I rode,  
There the Headless Horseman stood;  
By the wild pool in the wood, as I rode._

_From the shadow of an oak, as I rode,  
Demon steed and rider broke;  
By the thunder-shattered oak, as I rode._

_On the waste road through the plain, as I rode,  
At my back he whirled like rain;  
On the tempest-blackened plain, as I rode._

_Four fierce hoofs shod red with fire, as I …._

"What are you _doing_?" Blaine asked him curiously, his head tilted appraisingly as he watched Kurt's lips moving in a muttered mumble.

"I'm reciting poetry. I found I required an _immediate_ change of subject." Kurt said, with a resentful glare. Blaine had probably described an encounter like that on purpose, to see how he reacted. Surely people didn't… they wouldn't…Blaine wouldn't really…. Oh my lord, do _not_ imagine it again, Kurt!

Blaine let out a peal of laughter at his discomposure, and rolled out of the other side of the bed. "Welcome to my world, Kurt. Now imagine me trying to get to sleep, when I can feel your dick getting hard against my ass. It's no wonder I look like I got pulled through a keyhole backward." Blaine gave him a doleful look, as if it was entirely his fault.

Kurt rolled his eyes at him, wondering if he would _ever_ sleep again, with thoughts like those running through his head. He had spent nearly every waking moment with Blaine since the tremendous flash that had introduced them, a lot of it being tangled up with him for half the night. It seemed he definitely required to seek some privacy to release some pressure, and soon! He pointedly did not watch Blaine dressing today, not willing to have those images imprinted on the inside of his eyelids on top of the images his words had already produced. It would likely take weeks for those pictures to fade from his imagination.

By the time he dared to look at Blaine he was slipping his suspenders over his shoulders. The appearance of his hair had not improved at all with his half-hearted attempts to calm the riot with his dampened fingers at the washstand. Blaine sighed hopelessly in frustration, as he rubbed his bristly chin and squinted into the mirror. "I'm going to need to have a bath and shave today, Kurt. I'm starting to look homeless. Hey, where do you take a bath around here? I've never even seen a tub."

"We keep the tub in the shed in the back yard. It's normally filled with warm water from the woodstove cistern, so for convenience sake we usually bathe in the kitchen after Anita goes home, rather than haul all the hot water upstairs to our bedroom and then back down afterward to dispose of it. But if you prefer to bathe upstairs, I am certainly willing to bring water up here for you. And I will lend you the shaving kit my father gave me for my last birthday, to shave with. You _are_ starting to look a bit disreputable, I must say." Kurt's hand reached tentatively to smooth the tangled curls on Blaine's head, but retracted before he touched them. It felt much too intimate to touch Blaine's hair, since it made him nearly swoon just to consider the thought of it.

"By the time you've completed your ablutions and are removing the stubble from your face, I'm hoping to have enough hot water to take a turn in the tub too. I need to wash my hair, though I'm regrettably lacking the need to shave. My beard appears to be waiting for a proper introduction before it makes an appearance in public." Kurt rolled his eyes as he rubbed his baby-soft smooth chin as they left the room together.

"I like your face just the way it is. I bet it would feel awesome on my lips. Mine probably feels like a scrub brush" Blaine said the words softly, since they were almost down the stairs. Kurt flushed pink, glad his friend couldn't see his face on the stairway. Blaine admired Kurt's rosy ears and neck, betraying his blush, but didn't say any more.

Anita had already made breakfast for them when they went downstairs, informing them that Kurt's father had already eaten and left for the day, which is when they learned they had slept in more than an hour past Kurt's usual rising time. She removed the remains of a bread pudding from the oven, all warm and golden on top with butter and honey. Currents peeped through the custard in the bowl that was immersed in the pan of water it was baked in.

She dished out a generous serving for each of them and set the jug of milk between them before she poured some tea, without saying any more than a quiet 'morning' to them, with her lips pursed. Kurt glanced at her curiously, wondering what was bothering her.

"Is everything okay, Anita? You seem a little troubled today?" He was worried there was something wrong, when normally she seemed so cheery and glad to see him.

"I've got something I need to talk to you both about, but it can wait till you're done your food. I'll be in the parlour waiting for you." She left the room abruptly, leaving Kurt really concerned now. She had her own suspicions about why they had slept so late, but she would make sure before she took care of Blaine.

"Blaine, she's never behaved like this. I'm really concerned." Kurt's eyes betrayed his anxiety to Blaine.

"Let's eat up and we'll find out what it's about, then." They wasted no time finishing the food, leaving the table to follow the woman who had been the closest thing Kurt had to a mother for the last several years.

Kurt went to sit beside Anita, and took her hand. Blaine took a seat in Burt's chair, comfortably worn into the shape of his behind. "Now tell me what's bothering you and we'll do our best to fix it." Kurt urged her with a smile.

"Well, you're the only ones who can fix it, 'cause it's you two _causing_ the problem. This boy here, he cares 'bout you, don't he, like your lover, not just your friend? And you're starting to feel that same way 'bout him. Ain't that so?" Anita asked Kurt what she wanted to know without dancing around the subject. It was important she knew for sure that Kurt felt the same way. Blaine's face look horrified. Had they been that obvious? He glanced to Kurt to see his reaction. Kurt exhaled slowly and decided he had to tell Anita the truth. She would know if he was lying anyway.

"Yes. I think I am. Are you disappointed in me?" Kurt asked, his voice breaking. He loved Anita, but he knew it would feel like a spear in his heart if she was disgusted by him.

Anita saw his agonized face, and immediately put her hand up to cup Kurt's face. "Oh no, honey. I ain't disappointed, if that's your nature. I'm just afraid. I don't want nothing bad to happen to you."

She turned to Blaine, who met her eyes, though his were worried. "You ain't gonna hurt him, are you? Make him love you and then run off on him, after you got what you want? Cause if you _do _that to him, I got family that _will_ find you, and you won't hurt _anyone _like thatever again." She said the words calmly and coolly, assuring Blaine he would suffer dire consequences if he betrayed Kurt. Blaine looked deep into her bottomless brown eyes and knew in his heart that she was completely serious, though Kurt sputtered inarticulately behind her, horrified by her threats.

He inhaled deeply and replied, just as calmly, revealing to her what he hadn't even confessed to Kurt yet. "I think I'm falling in love with him, Anita. I can't promise him forever, but I would _never _hurt him on purpose." Blaine shrugged at her with a quirked smile, accepting her promise in the spirit she meant it. She was protecting the boy she loved, and that was fair enough with Blaine. Blaine knew, if she didn't kill him, Burt _would,_ if he hurt his son.

His smile had no effect on her, until she had all her answers. "Why cain't you promise him forever?" She asked him gruffly. "I heard you two talking last night. You both gotta remember that _anybody_ could be listening when you're talking outdoors, so you watch what you say a lot more carefully, you hear me? You said you might never get home again. Why? You said your parent's would wonder what happened to you. Did you run away from home? I want to know everything about you, boy, so you better start doing some talking right now and it had better be the truth."

She sat back regally and waited, with her arms crossed under her magnificent bosom. Blaine wondered how anybody could_ ever _consider this woman their property. She had more dignity and presence than most kings and queens.

"Okay Anita. If you want to know, I'll tell you, but you need to know that the truth is nearly as dangerous as the secret that you already know about me." Blaine looked at Kurt, hoping he could help make her believe him.

"It happened on Sunday while I was walking to the mall from a friend's house. A storm came up suddenly and the wind got crazy. Then, a bolt of lightning came out of the sky and I guess I got hit by it. When I woke up, I saw Kurt looking down at me." Blaine paused for a minute trying to decide how to tell her the most critical part.

"I heard all this last Sunday, after it happened." Anita reminded him, her eyebrows raised impatiently. Blaine nodded and looked at Kurt for support. He nodded to him to go on. He had faith that Anita would understand.

"Well yes, the same thing happened to Kurt on Sunday, but Anita, it happened to _me_ a hundred and thirty five years _after_ it did to Kurt. It was June _2011_ when I left my friend's house."

Anita stared at him searchingly, appraising his words and the way he had delivered them, trying to stay open-minded. _He_ believed them, she decided. She looked to Kurt to see if he believed Blaine. He nodded in answer to her silent question. So… she accepted what he believed too.

"Do you want to go back to your own time again, or are you sticking here with Kurt?" No matter where Blaine belonged, she wanted to know if he intended to follow through with his courting.

Kurt interrupted first. "He _needs_ to go back Anita. He doesn't belong here. He keeps forgetting himself and it's only a matter of time until somebody catches on and then…he's going to end up..." Kurt's heart felt like lead. He had just realized that he felt far more than just attraction for Blaine too, but their budding love affair was doomed. No matter what they both wanted, Blaine had to go back…somehow.

Blaine moved from the chair to the floor in front of Kurt and took his other hand in his, and looked up at him with love in his eyes. "I don't want to leave you, but I'm afraid of staying here. I'm so grateful to have found you, especially if I might never get home again." Kurt could feel the tears in his eyes so close to falling, but he managed to hold them in. He was trying desperately to hold on to his heart before he gave it away to a boy he didn't know if he could keep for very long. He strongly suspected it had already crept away into Blaine's keeping. He put his hand over Blaine's in recognition that they both felt the same way.

Anita nodded her head, in understanding. All right then. They both felt the same for each other.

"I'm gonna need to do some looking into this. I know a couple ofpowerful healers I should speak to and they might know of others I should ask. You two kep' your unmentionables on, so far, when you were in Kurt's bed?" Anita asked Blaine outright if he'd taken what wasn't his yet.

Kurt's eyes bugged out at her question. Good lord! Did she actually ask Blaine if they'd resisted the temptation to have sex?

Blaine nodded affirmatively, his blush rising, as he saw the horrified look on Kurt's face.

"Good. You keep 'em that way. You only give your first time to somebody who is giving their heart back to you in exchange, and you don't know if you're gonna be around for long enough to do that." Anita spoke slowly and carefully as she stared at the curly haired boy, hoping Blaine was listening closely. She had other potions that wouldn't kill him outright, but they'd make him awfully damn sorry, if he crossed her.

"Then I'll save my firsts for him too." Blaine said with a small shrug of agreement. He hoped to hell he could keep his promise because he believed her threats, without a doubt.

She smiled at him and patted his shoulder, satisfied. It was good to know that at least he didn't make a habit of seducing other boys, if he was still a virgin too. "That's a good boy, Blaine."

Her gaze turned to the other boy, all the softness hidden again, for now. "Kurtie, you heard what I said, child? _You_ keep your unmentionables buttoned up too. I'm gonna make you very, very sorry if you take _his_ first time too."

"Yes ma'am." Kurt nodded numbly, aware that she seemed somehow to _know _how tempted he was by Blaine.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Anita hassured Blaine before she left that she believed that if it was possible for him to get _here_, it was likely possible to get him _back_, as long as everything else stayed the same. She knew of people who had knowledge of mysterious things, things most learned scientific men didn't have any inkling of, in a network that spread its web from New York City to New Orleans, the islands of Haiti and Cuba and beyond to Europe, the Middle Sea and on into Asia. It might take months to find a definitive answer, but she would start with sending some telegrams to certain people she'd heard of in the Louisiana Territory, Paris, Vienna and in Edinburgh.

Anita left immediately after that to begin making inquiries into the widespread network of healers and spiritualists the poor and disadvantaged relied on to treat their ills. The wealthy used doctors no better than butchers, in her opinion, with their filthy aprons and blood-letting who probably killed more of their patients than they helped. That network was her best chance to discover if there was any possible way to return Blaine to where…or rather, _when_ he belonged. Blaine didn't hold out much hope that she could help, but he did believe that there was much more to the world than science had discovered, even in his time. Hell, he'd proved it, with his arrival here, so he agreed it was worth a try.

Blaine sat at the kitchen table watching Kurt, as he cleaned up the kitchen and banked the fire. Kurt casually asked him to refill the hot water cistern on the stove for their baths, which he was happy to do for him, finally feeling like Kurt was letting him be useful. He took the bucket to the pump in the yard and managed eventually, with some effort, and a few spills and splashes on his shoes, to pump it full, and returned to the kitchen, only spilling a little bit on the floor, trying to not look too proud of himself. It was no big deal to get some water, right? Kids did it all the time here.

Kurt smiled at him with an apologetic look on his face that clued him that he'd screwed up again. "I'm sorry Blaine, but some of it will need to be transferred into the cistern with the dipper first. You'll spill half of it, if you try to lift it up this way. I forgot to tell you to only fill the bucket to just over half full."

Blaine realized that Kurt had assumed he would know that much. Damn it, there was so much he didn't know about living here and now. He rectified the situation carefully, trying not to sulk about it, while Kurt began making some soup from the ham bone, left over from the previous night.

When he'd finally got the cistern filled, Kurt asked if he could help him with that too. He saw Kurt keeping a wary eye on him, as he let him chop the carrots, onions and potatoes, while he finished trimming off the remaining ham and shelled some dried peas. It sort of sucked that he seemed to think he had to keep watch on him all the time, obviously expecting him to screw up again any minute. Geeze Kurt, he could scrape a freaking carrot, for god's sake, without removing a finger, he thought to himself petulantly.

He was about to tell him he could quit watching him, when Kurt carefully put down his knife and washed his hands, with a thoughtful glance at him from eyes half-hidden under his lashes. Was he going to tell him was doing something else wrong? It wasn't until he came over to Blaine and removed the knife from his hands, and put his arms around him that he finally figured out what he was up to. Blaine was way on board with _this_ kind of supervision!

Kurt's dark blue eyes looked into his, excitement showing in them, as he finally pulled him close and kissed him, sweetly and gently. Blaine sighed into his mouth, his whole body feeling like he'd been electrocuted, fizzing with sensation. He tried not to overreact too much, waiting for Kurt to take it farther, if he wanted to. Maybe this was just a test to see whether or not he liked kissing him, wide awake and conscious. Blaine was afraid if he responded too enthusiastically that he would scare him, so he did his best to let Kurt set the tone.

Oh Kurt, _please_ want to do it again. Blaine prayed fervently to whoever was listening.

They separated by a couple inches and gazed into each other's eyes. Blaine couldn't help the ecstatic grin that spread over his face, as Kurt smiled back at him shyly. Kurt slowly moved forward and kissed him again then, slower, deeper and more passionately. He was a quick study, considering this must be his first experience with kissing. When he pulled on Blaine's bottom lip with his teeth, Blaine opened his mouth to let Kurt dart his tongue inside, and lightly touch his tongue. A totally embarrassing sound escaped his mouth at that, but Kurt kindly ignored it, with only a hint of a smile showing he'd heard him. Things seemed to get a lot hotter after that, while they explored all the nuances of kissing, and let their hands explore each other's shoulders and chests.

Blaine finally pulled away ten or fifteen minutes later, and breathed into Kurt's neck. "God, I've wanted to do that since about ten seconds after I met you." He started slowly working his mouth up Kurt's neck, who hummed happily with his eyes closed, enjoying Blaine's attentions as he wove his fingers into his curls. "I am _so _gay." He mumbled happily.

The sudden slam of the kitchen door made them jump apart guiltily, whipping around to see who it was.

There was Mercy standing there with her hands on her hips and a judgemental look on her face. "What in blazes are you idiots doing? _Anybody_ could have come in here and seen you! Don't you have the sense the good Lord gave you, Kurt? And Blaine, if you want to spoon with him, you gotta find a better spot to do it than just inside the kitchen door, for heaven's sake!" She huffed a sigh of exasperation and shook her head at them.

There was a moment of frozen silence while she surveyed the guilty parties. Then she let out a squeal of half-stifled excitement. "Oh my god, Kurtie! When did _this_ happen?"All her romantic daydreams had crashed to the ground in ruins the second she had opened the door, and discovered Kurt and his new friend wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace. Yes, her heart broke, just a little. But with its next beat, her happiness for Kurt overtook her disappointment. Hooray, Kurt had snagged one! She thought Blaine was very sweet.

Both boys released the tense breath they were holding. Thank god, she wasn't going to shout their indiscretion to the world. "My name is _Kurt_, Mercy. Only your mother gets away with calling me that. I would never presume to correct _her_."

He went back to the stove and resumed trying to look busy, futilely pretending there hadn't been anything unusual going on. Blaine totally ruined the impression by beaming at Mercy, and winking at her triumphantly with his shoulders raised in elation. She snorted back at him in amusement, thinking she really should be more annoyed at him.

Alright...yes. Maybe she _had_ imagined herself in love with Kurt for a couple of years now. She knew perfectly well they could never marry, but it didn't stop her from imagining what it would be like to kiss him, exactly the way he and Blaine just had and perhaps even doing more than that in the privacy of his room, if he wanted to. He'd never seemed to be even slightly tempted, even when she hinted that she really wondered what it would feel like to kiss a boy. He'd merely responded primly that they would find out what it might be like to kiss someone, when they were older and ready to find out.

She assumed the real reason he'd kept any hint of attraction out of their friendship was because she was black, or because she was their housekeeper's daughter. It was a huge relief in a way, that it was her gender that didn't interest him, not her race or her social standing that was the source of his hesitation.

It took a couple of minutes more, for the dread to completely overtake Mercy's enthusiasm, as she realized what this meant for Kurt's future. Blaine saw it happen as her face slowly changed from pleased excitement to anxious apprehension for the boy she would always love, though only as a friend now.

"Oh…my God! Kurt…It could have been anyone." She said softly, in a completely changed tone of voice.

Kurt could feel her distress for his sake. He went to her and held her hands in his. "But it wasn't Mercy. It'll be all right. We'll be much more careful in the future. That really wasn't something I planned ahead of time." Kurt glanced to Blaine with a quirk of his mouth, and Blaine grinned back at him like a freaking lunatic. He still wasn't over the fact that Kurt had KISSED him, voluntarily, and very enthusiastically, once he got the hang of it.

It looked like it would probably take a confrontation with a homophobic axe murderer to take the smile off Blaine's face. Kurt started working at the counter again, resolving not to kiss Blaine again right away, if his brains were going to fall out on the floor whenever he did so. He looked completely addled….and he'd done it to him, he thought to himself with an inner thrill.

Mercy went to sit at the table and side-eyed Blaine, considering whether he was good enough for her best friend or not. Blaine tried to restrain his huge smile for a bit, before she decided he was brain damaged, but he wasn't having much luck. Instead he leaned over and whispered to her intimately. "Sorry, Mercy, if I'm looking a bit scrambled. That was the first time he's kissed me and I'm still seeing hearts floating around the room."

Mercy finally stopped glaring at him with an eyeroll at his complete delight. Blaine saw Kurt duck his head, and the blush rising up the back of his neck as he worked, trying to hide his smile. He could pretend he wasn't feeling the same way but Blaine _knew_ better now. Oh _yeah_. He was gonna kiss Kurt absolutely stupid the next time he got him alone….oh crap! How the hell was he going to sleep with Kurt every night now, without getting into some serious trouble, now that he knew Kurt wanted him too? He had _no_ doubt whatsoever that Anita meant every word of her threat and that she would find out somehow if they broke her injunction to behave.

The only thing worse than sleeping with Kurt when he wasn't allowed to touch him at all, was sleeping with Kurt when he could touch him! God, he was going to freaking explode or something.

Kurt chanced to glance at him that second, and stared in surprise when he saw the expression on Blaine's face. Why was he looking so troubled? Blaine had seemed inordinately pleased that he'd finally overcome his nerves and actually kissed him. He'd thought he'd picked up the technique fairly quickly. Had he done something wrong? Falling in love was incredibly scary and intimidating, even if he didn't count worrying about being caught kissing another boy.

Mercy saw the byplay between the two, and knew immediately what Blaine's problem was. "Are you worried about what you're going to do about what comes next, Blaine?" She asked him, with a smile hidden not very far below the surface.

"Yeah. I mean, this was totally awesome, but hell… we sleep together, Mercy, and I have to behave myself or your mother is going to neuter me, if not_ worse_, if I let this get away on us. It's been hard enough before now to…." Mercy let a squeak of amusement past her hand, smothering the laugh that threatened to explode from her.

"I'll just _bet_ it has been." She said teasingly, making Kurt blush purple and Blaine glance at him guiltily as he blushed too. They had both just confirmed her assumptions.

"Mercy! I'm gonna tell your mother, if you don't stop it. You are a _lady!"_ Kurt said indignantly.

"And I'm your best friend, Kurt. Don't go getting all high and mighty on me. It's natural to feel like that about someone you love, so settle on down. I don't know what you're gonna do about sleeping together though. Oh my! I would imagine your daddy is going to figure out something is '_up'_ if Blaine sleeps downstairs now, isn't he?" She put emphasis on the word 'up' with a slight smile. Kurt merely glared at her at first, though Blaine let a smile show on his face, as he hiked his eyebrows at Kurt in a leer. Kurt smirked back at him, preening a bit. Mercy chuckled at them both.

Kurt decided it was high time to change the subject. "Mercy, would you bring in some more water, while Blaine and I bring in the bath tub? We both want to take a bath and Blaine needs to shave." Kurt felt a shiver go through him at the thought of Blaine completely naked in the kitchen. Should he leave the room and let Blaine bathe alone? Oh yes, he definitely should. If he saw Blaine completely naked he was never going to sleep again, though it might be worth it to give up sleeping, for that.

Blaine could not believe what a hassle it was to simply take a bath and wash your hair. Being able to turn on a faucet and get endless hot and cold water seemed a luxury beyond belief. He told them about the convenience of modern bathrooms with hot and cold running water while Kurt filled the tub with about six inches of water, which nearly emptied the hot water cistern. The bath water was still only tepidly warm, mixed with half hot and half cold water.

The idea of nearly endless warm water showering down on you seemed like a pipe dream to those that had never experienced it. Ha ha...'a pipe dream', he chuckled to himself. Mercy refilled the cistern and kettles while Kurt laid out his razor in its protective case, with the sharpening strop, a shaving brush, and the shaving mug on a blue linen cloth under the mirror where his father shaved every morning.

Kurt and Mercy left Blaine to himself in the kitchen after that, with the last of the hot water to rinse his hair with, when he was done shampooing it. Kurt shared his finest toiletries with Blaine, most imported from France at a notable expense. His mother had similar ones before she died, and Kurt had continued her habits to keep her close. At first he'd done it because the scents evoked her memory, but then he noticed the vast difference fine toiletries made to his skin. His father had humoured him, accepting that his son had inherited his mother's elegant tastes.

Blaine undressed and eased himself into the metal tub, decorated with painted flowers on the back that rose high behind his head. He quickly washed himself, and then poured some water over himself to wet his hair. He shampooed and rinsed and then hastened to dry off and shave before his face dried completely. A moment's perusal of the equipment he'd been supplied with was enough to make him quickly don his pants again, before he hailed Kurt and Mercy to come in from the porch swing. He wasn't at all sure how to operate the straight razor without slitting his throat.

Mercy entered the kitchen first and stopped dead, with Kurt bumping into her back. They were both staring at Blaine's shirtless chest, as he stood beside the small mirror on the wall, completely unaware of anything unusual. Neither of them was used to seeing a man in a half-naked state of undress, even if Kurt did sleep with him that way. It was dark, for the most part and this was his kitchen! Blaine was holding the straight razor in one hand by the ivory handle projecting from its protective leather case, and the matching handle of the round brush in the other. The shaving mug with a block of soap inside it lay on the cloth. He seemed bewildered by what he should do next.

"So, Kurt. How does this thing work?" Blaine carefully withdrew the razor from the sheath and tested it on his thumb. He watched a small slice of skin peel off his thumb, with a bead of blood filling the cavity afterward. Oh lord, he was going to die if he did this! Maybe he should just grow his beard. He would look scruffy but it was better than being neat and _dead_.

Kurt gulped. He shook his head helplessly. He'd watched his father shaving for many years, but there was no way he felt competent enough to try shaving Blaine. His hands shook at just the thought of accidentally nicking Blaine.

Mercy chuckled, deciding that she didn't mind Blaine's unself-conscious display of his body one bit. She particularly admired the hair trailing across his chest and down his belly, and his strong looking shoulders.

"Here, let me help, Blaine. I shave my daddy's face every Sunday morning before church, 'cause his hands are crippling up with the 'artheritis'. Why is the girl around here the only one who knows how to use a straight razor? Now pay attention, boys, because I won't always be around."

Both boys watched in fascination as she wetted the round pig bristle shaving brush and swirled it around on the shaving soap in the bottom of the shaving mug. A thick lather quickly rose. Mercy painted Blaine's face with the lather, with her eyes sparkling. She was enjoying this. Blaine was looking back at her so trustfully with the loveliest golden tawny eyes, as he tilted his face toward her. Kurt was leaning over her shoulder and cramping her a bit so she simply turned and stared at him, until he apologetically backed up a step. Better, she nodded. Blaine grinned at him, but it fell off his face when she took up the razor. He leaned back away from her when she raised it.

"Sit yourself down on that chair, Blaine, and close your eyes and hold still. I don't want you twitching, when I'm shaving you or there is going to be very large mess in this kitchen. And Kurt is going to be very disappointed in me, if you die." Blaine immediately sat down, his face beginning to tickle from the soap. He closed his eyes and did his best not to move when he felt the cold steel touch his face. It swooped down his cheek, then down the other side. There was a short pause, before he felt Mercy tilt his chin up while she did one side of his neck. He cracked open his eyes and saw her staring back at him, hers half closed in concentration.

She wiped the foam from the blade on the cloth draped over her arm and continued around his neck and then demonstrated with her own face, to show him what she wanted him to do with his. Kurt was watching her in fascination, wishing he was the one shaving Blaine. Blaine grinned back at him, until Mercy smacked his shoulder, to remind him to hold still and pay attention. Afterward she moistened a cloth in clean warm water and washed the remains of the soap off.

She was about to test if she had missed a spot, then gently nudged Kurt to do it for her since he had moved closer again. He ran his cool fingers down Blaine's face and neck, smooth and clean now. He found a spot on Blaine's Adam's apple that was still bristly, so Mercedes carefully fixed it before she washed out the mug and dried the razor. Blaine was still staring entranced up at Kurt, who had put his hand back on his face. He loved feeling how smooth and soft it was. Soooo soft….and kissable.

When she turned back, the two of them were only inches apart, and Kurt was leaning slowly toward Blaine. He remembered just in time they weren't alone, backing up and dropping his hands self-consciously. Blaine continued to stare at Kurt, while Kurt glanced to Mercy with a tiny shrug.

"Oh, Kurt! I don't think you two can keep this a secret very long. I can feel the heat from over here." Mercy said, with her arms crossed under her bosom, looking very much like her mother, with the worry making her look older than her years.

"I know. Either he has to go back, or we have to leave here. I couldn't stand it if something terrible happened to him." Kurt remembered with dread the man who had met an untimely end because of the rumours of his leanings.

Blaine knew he was right. All it took was to look into Kurt's eyes and he completely forgot where he was and that he needed to be careful, for both their sakes. He could get Kurt hurt or killed too.

"You have to keep away from other folks when you're together then, so how about we go on a walk to the river after Kurt's done his bath and we'll have a picnic? There are probably some fish rising in the river. I think the water should be hot enough now on the stove for your turn in the bath, Kurt." She and Blaine waited outside until he called to say he was finished, redressed with his hair damp and soft and smelling absolutely wonderful.

The two boys emptied the bath tub, while Mercy packed a lunch and an hour later they were at the river. Mercy and Blaine fished, while Kurt watched lazily from the blanket and entertained them. There was no chance he was going to touch any of the worms they had dug from under a nearby log, though he loved watching the river slide by. He began another song, which was picked up in a harmony by Mercy and then by Blaine. She had an amazing voice, rich and mellow. Kurt's was clear and sweet, so you wouldn't think they would go together but they sounded wonderful to Blaine. Mercy went on to sing some spirituals, with Kurt picking up a response harmony for her. When she was done, Kurt asked Blaine to sing the song about holding hands again for him.

Blaine came to sit beside him and held his hand as he sang it for Kurt, with all the emotion he could put into it. Mercy watched him, and felt a shiver run through her when Blaine sang "When I touch you I feel happy inside, its such a feeling that, my love, I can't hide". She could see them falling more deeply in love right in front of her, hoping that someday a boy would look at her, the way these two looked at each other. Anybody watching them would recognize how they felt about each other.

When Blaine was done with the song, he glanced at Mercy, but decided to kiss Kurt anyway in a chaste kiss with their lips barely touching. Kurt impetuously wrapped his arms around Blaine and pulled him down beside him to the blanket. She heard a soft murmur from Kurt, and then Blaine grabbed him and held him tightly, with a sob escaping him, before he murmured back to him. She felt her eyes tear up and turned around to give them some privacy.

"I love you." Kurt had confessed to Blaine softly, as their foreheads touched and their hands intertwined.

Blaine let a sound escape that said far better than words what Kurt meant to him. "I don't want to go back again, Kurt. You can teach me what to do, how to live here, to be careful. I can't go back, not without you. Nobody will guess. We can tell people we're brothers and no one will susp... "

Kurt's fingers came up to his lips and stopped Blaine's babbling. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Blaine _knew_ perfectly well he had to go back. He had to leave Kurt behind, a hundred thirty five years behind him, never to see him again. His heart was aching in his chest, like a bird that yearned to fly, now chained forever. They shared a couple of tender kisses, but mostly they just held each other, every moment they spent together adding to a precious store that would have to last them the rest of their lives.

Mercy left them alone, spooning together until she heard voices approaching from the river, sounding very close. She hissed and threw a clod of dirt toward the blanket to get the boys' attention. Kurt saw her urgent wave, and quickly sat up and whispered to Blaine to sit up too. He assumed a casual air that Blaine had never seen on him before, purposefully behaving coolly with one leg cocked over the other and his arms crossed over his chest, watching Mercy and ignoring Blaine. Blaine followed suit, leaning over his knees with his arms locked around them by his grip on one wrist, paying no attention to Kurt. His heart ached that he had to hide his feelings for Kurt from the world.

A boat came into view within seconds, with a couple of men in it looking at them curiously. God, what if Mercy hadn't heard them in time…

"Hello, the boat." Kurt called out, his voice lower and more mellow than his normal voice. Blaine waved with a faked friendly smile.

"How's the fishing? You'd catch more if you had three poles in the water." One of the men called out to them, eyeing Mercy, with his eyes and his unshaven face shadowed by his hat. He was the younger of the two, about thirty perhaps. He was wearing a shapeless hat, and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, displaying muscled arms. The other man was much older, his father maybe. He didn't bother pretending any interest in them at all.

"We've each caught two trout and threw back a couple of sunfish. Not enough for supper yet, but we're hopeful" Blaine called out. "Fishing is tiring work, so a nap sounds just about right to me. You fishing from the boat?" He added, curiously.

"Nope, we're eeling. Got about fifteen but I'm headed for a spot I know for another half dozen before we quit. You know, I wish we had a girl of our own to spend some time on a blanket with. You in the mood to share yours, mebbe, in exchange for some of these eels?" The oarsman wasn't bothering to hide his interest, his oars shipped as he drifted slowly downstream. He dipped one in the water then, slowly turning the boat toward them, as if he was coming in to shore.

"The "girl" is our friend, mister. I think you should go look for your eels." Kurt said, his voice sounding cold and bitter. Mercy set the fishing pole down carefully and quickly retreated from the shore to stand behind the boys, hoping to avoid trouble. "You have a real nice day now." Blaine added, his tone saying he wished them otherwise.

"You keep strange company, my friend. Is it the black bitch or the boy bitch, who's warming you up? Either way, you ain't very particular 'tall about your friends." He picked up his oars and pulled on them, the boat eventually rounding a bend and disappearing from sight. No one said anything, the foulness of the man's words having completely ruined the day. Blaine wondered how he'd known about Kurt and him, or if he'd just been blindly trying to insult them any way he could.

Mercy silently began collecting their things, and soon Kurt got up to help her, the beauty of the idylic spot ruined. Blaine stayed on the blanket, glaring at the river for a moment or two longer. How could he leave Kurt and Mercy to men like those? He stood then and folded the blanket. No one spoke, until they were back at the road. Mercy would go north to her home and the boys south to Lima.

"I'm sorry Mercy. I wish I could have kicked his ass for you." Blaine rested his hand on Mercy's arm sympathetically.

She snorted, picturing the slight boy attacking the lout in the boat. The man probably weighed twice what Blaine did. "Thank you Blaine. But if that man ever touched me, he would never touch another woman again. My family would take care of him. I wonder if testicles explode when you throw them in a fire"? She smiled at his expression and left with a chuckle floating back to them.

Blaine glanced to Kurt, to see if she meant it. Kurt just shrugged. Nobody had ever messed with Mercy's family that he knew of. If that was what happened to those that did, it was no wonder. Blaine shivered, wondering what exactly would happen to him, if he and Kurt broke Anita's injunction. Just the thought of it certainly was incentive to try _really_ hard to behave.

The boys returned to the house and finished getting supper ready, with the table set before they went to the porch and sat on the swing to wait for Burt. They stayed at opposite ends and didn't touch each other, aware of Anita's reminder that people took note of everything in a small town.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They went to bed a few hours later where Blaine, softly singing the words in the dark, taught Kurt the song he had sung for him. Blaine thought it sounded much better in Kurt's voice, but it could be because he was hearing it sung to him lovingly in Kurt's bed as he held his hand, with his eyes strengthening the message in his softly murmured voice

They lay with their foreheads touching and their hands intertwined, talking for a while afterward, imagining a shared life lived in Paris or Rome, where they could grow old together. They both knew how unrealistic the dream was, but dreams were all they could share.

When the dream faded away, Blaine traced Kurt's eyebrows and his ears with his finger, and then traced his neck and shoulder with his mouth. There was no urgency, no sweeping desire motivating him. Just a need to remember, to engrave the memory of Kurt so deeply that he would always remember that dimple beside his mouth when he smiled, and the freckles on his cheeks and across his nose, the barely perceptible cleft in his chin his lips fit into just right. The sweet pink nipples on his chest received his attention next, making Kurt whine with overwhelming sensations, before he twitched away with his breath quickening.

"Oh….I…ohhh. No…I can't Blaine," he whispered to him, sounding breathlessly hesitant. Blaine went back to sweet soft kisses on his mouth for a while, until they both drifted to sleep, holding on to each other, along with their hopes.

~ o ~

Burt woke the next morning, and decided to ask Kurt if he and Blaine would like to come to the shop and unpack his latest order. A new shipment was arriving today all the way from Europe, and he knew how much Kurt looked forward to revealing each new precious item, whether it was a length of fine cloth, new sheet music of the latest popular songs or a new cream from the salons of a more refined world.

He opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks. His son and his new friend were wrapped up together as close and as innocently as puppies as they slept. There was nothing overtly lascivious about them, but Blaine was curled into Kurt and he was intertwined with Blaine. The obvious intimacy they shared was certainly nothing most boys would ever be comfortable with, sleeping in the same bed or not.

Burt backed out of the room and stood silently at the top of the stairs, his mind replaying a thousand things Kurt had said or done over the last five years. It had never entered Burt's head that his son might be romantically interested in men, but now that he thought of it, he was far more adept in feminine pursuits than masculine ones. Burt had always just assumed that because he was so much like his mother, Kurt would of course, like all the same things she had, forgetting that one of the things she had liked was men.

He entered the kitchen and found Anita there, busy at the stove. She said a murmured a quiet good morning, as she set a cup of tea on the table for him, with a watchful glance to his face.

She _knew_, it struck him suddenly. Of course, she was there all day with them, so she must have seen it.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me about them?" He said in a low voice, not accusing her, but letting the hurt illuminate his voice.

"Wasn't my place to." She answered with a shrug, sitting opposite him at the table. She seldom sat at the table with him, usually only to share conversation, never to share food. She had known immediately what he meant, so she had been waiting for him to see it.

"Are they…doing more than just _sleeping_?" Burt wanted to know how far it had gone, before he noticed what had been going on under his nose, all unaware. He was disappointed that his son couldn't tell him what they were hiding. God, he had invited Blaine to sleep with his son himself. Had that been why Kurt had brought him home in the first place? Was Blaine's story of being left without a place to stay all a sham?

"They _better_ not be. I made them promise to wait until we find out if Blaine can go home again." Anita stared at the table, wondering how much she should tell Burt. A moment's reflection convinced her he needed to know it all. He had always been so good to her, treating her with respect and caring, so she owed the same to him.

"What do you mean,_ if_ Blaine can go home? Have his parent's abandoned him? Has Kurt manufactured the story about Blaine's parents being away because he wanted…" He trailed off, unable to say the words.

"Kurt didn't lie to you, Burt. They met the way they said they did, but there's more to Blaine's story. I think_ he_ should tell it to you though."

Burt wasn't sure if he was ready to hear it all. But Anita's calm acceptance gave him hope that this revelation wasn't more than he could deal with.

"I'm gonna go get 'em, and we'll tell it all to you." She rose from the table and went up the stairway. He distantly heard her voice murmuring to them, before she came back down. She took her seat opposite him again and waited with him, knowing he was intimidated and wanting to lend her presence to comfort him. She had been taken aback too at how close the two boys seemed when she'd woken them, sleeping wrapped up together, like they had been. Had they trespassed where she had warned them not to? She would know what had passed between them, as soon as she saw them standing in front of her.

Ten minutes later the boys came down the stairs, with Kurt's hand resting protectively on Blaine's arm. He looked nervous and reluctant, but Blaine looked positively terrified that he had shaken the foundations of Kurt's relationship with his father. They both knew what Kurt's father had guessed when Anita had said Burt wanted to talk to them. Anita relaxed as soon as she saw them, confident that so far, they hadn't shared more than words and the comfort of being close.

They stood in the hall doorway together, unwilling to leave each other's side. For some reason, their common solidarity comforted Burt. Blaine was just as protective of Kurt, as his son was of the boy he … mmm. "Come sit down, boys. We have some talking to do, I believe." Burt said, in a calm reasonable voice, sounding far more serene than he felt.

They shared a glance before Blaine cam in the kitchen and sat down at the table with them, with Kurt still hovering over him protectively.

"Kurt, I'm not _mad_ at either of you. I'm disappointed that you didn't talk to me about it, but I'm not going to do anything to Blaine. But I need to know… Are you boys…sweet on each other?" Burt had to hear what was really going on from his son.

Kurt could only nod affirmatively, too emotionally wrought to talk. His father had been his whole world, but he was afraid if he was forced to choose, he might choose Blaine. Somehow, Blaine had changed from being a friend to being necessary to his happiness. But…god, he really didn't want to lose his father. Kurt's hand crept to Blaine's shoulder, needing to feel him close. Burt watched them lock their hands and their eyes together.

"Okay, you need to tell me the whole story." Burt invited them, leaning back to listen. The store could wait, if he was late for one morning.

They haltingly took turns relaying the events that had led to them finding each other, Burt remaining silent, even when they told him Blaine was from the future. He kept his face carefully blank, though it was difficult. How could that be? He glanced at Anita to see what she thought. She nodded back to him, verifying that she _believed_ Blaine. He trusted Kurt and Anita, a hell of a lot more than he did Blaine.

Kurt's voice was anguished when he finished the story. "So, Anita's trying to find somebody who knows how to get Blaine home. He can't _stay_ here, Dad! It's too dangerous for him. He keeps forgetting to pretend." Kurt glanced at Blaine, who ducked his head, admitting Kurt's allegation.

Burt was curious about that. "Why do you forget, Blaine? Is it not dangerous to be… like_ that_ there…or then?" Burt wanted to know if one day, it would be safe for boys like Blaine…and his son.

"Yeah, it's _much_ safer to be gay where I come from, although there are still reports of gay bashers every now and again. There is still a lot of progress to be made, but it's illegal to discriminate openly against people for their sexual orientation in most places, so at least they have to make sure they don't get caught doing it. In bigger cities you can walk down the street holding hands and not get hassled at all.

In New York, and some other states it's even legal for male and female homosexual couples to get married. The President is trying to make it universally accepted across all 50 states, but in the Midwestern Bible belt and the south, it's still a tough sell. It might take a while yet, but one day it _will_ happen. I will one day have the right to marry the man I love." Burt watched Blaine's face change as he realized that he might never get back and gain that right.

"Would this be the Negro president you told me about?" Anita asked him, with a hopeful expression.

Blaine nodded to her with a sad smile. "That would be him. I guess it helps to know a thing or two about bigotry. Blacks have all the legal rights anybody else has too, men and women both, but its harder to fight the battle against racial bigotry in people's minds. There will always be somebody down on people who don't match their idea of what they think America should look like, but …we've come a long way already."

Burt's eyes opened wide in shock, as he absorbed what Blaine had said. "So… in the future there are _fifty _states in the union, and the President is a Negro? And _you_ came here from there! Thunderation! Will wonders never cease?" Burt blew out a slow whistle, finding his credibility strained beyond its limits. "Blaine, I'm finding this all a little hard to take." He sat down, wondering what else Blaine might tell him about the future, if he asked, aware that he was starting to believe his whole implausible story.

But Blaine might be going back to where he came from, leaving his son with a broken heart and the knowledge that he was …attracted to men. Gay? That was the term Blaine used. "Anita, have you heard anything yet about whether there is any hope for Blaine to get home?" For his own peace of mind, Burt didn't want to know anything about how she was trying to return Blaine to his own time.

"I got word yesterday that there is a …someone who might be able to help us. A contact is trying to get more information for me about whether he can actually do what he claims. I should know soon…two or three days at the most, if there is a possibility that he could help, at least."

Burt saw the boys look at each other in a panic when they realized they might have only a few more days together. He didn't have the heart to separate them at this point. They'd already been sleeping together for a while, and Anita said they had pledged to behave themselves. He knew a thing or two about losing the person he loved with all his heart, and Kurt would be suffering the heartbreak of losing Blaine soon enough.

"I came into your room this morning Kurt, to ask if you wanted to go to the store and help me sort through a new shipment. Blaine, did you want to help him? I don't even know what half that stuff is for."

Both boys glanced at each other, finding instant agreement. They could be together, but not have to deal with the temptation of being too close. "Yes, dad, I think we'd both love to. Give us a few minutes and we'll be ready."

The boys spent the day refilling shelves and pricing things, talking animatedly throughout the day. Burt saw several customers watch them guardedly, wondering where Kurt had found his new friend, since they seemed so close. Most were just curious, but a couple seemed to acquire an expression of distain, that told Burt they were suspicious. He didn't ask the boys to come back the next day. Why court disaster, if he didn't have to?

Anita began to bring Mercy with her to the Hummel's house to keep an eye on them. The weather was rainy and wet again for the next few days, so Blaine taught his friends how to play Charades, a game they needed very little in the way of equipment to play. It turned out Mercy was gifted at Charades and trounced both the boys. When they got tired of that, they sang, or Blaine told stories, some about how things in the future evolved and some were the descriptions of movies and plays he'd seen.

Both Kurt and Mercy hated the Twilight story but they loved Star Wars, even without the special effects. The work at home remained undone, but at least Anita knew the boys were behaving themselves, when she heard the laughter from the parlour. Mercy told her she really liked Blaine. He was intelligent, talented, witty and treated her respectfully, like he'd been her friend for years too.

Mercy was pleased to learn that one of Blaine's best friends was black and had dated a white girl, which occasioned very little comment from his family or friends, though just now he was dating a black girl again. Yes, Blaine assured her. She _could_ marry someone like Kurt, if they both wanted to, in his time and she could vote or attend any school she qualified to get into. She grinned at Kurt delightedly. He gave her an uneasy look in return. That was his first inkling that she'd even considered him romantically. He held Blaine's arm a little tighter, and leaned away from her in mock horror, making both Blaine and Anita laugh at him.

Mercy and Anita had to go home at night though, and bedtime was the boys' favourite time of the day. They could lie together, with their bodies in contact from head to toe, with their always present desire held off at bay, for now. Being close to Blaine, breathing his scent, touching him, feeling his heartbeat, had somehow become as necessary breathing to Kurt. It was the only time when he allowed himself to give into the feelings he resisted in the day times.

They talked for a while, imagining how they could somehow contact each other after Blaine went back. Blaine suggested letters addressed to him at Dalton might reach him, down through all the years, but how he could reply to Kurt in the past was beyond them both. They considered running away together somewhere, though they both knew it was impossible. They would never reach safety, with the lack of resources, education and experience they had.

Eventually conversation lagged and one or the other would give in and kiss the other. The conversation stopped then, sweet adoring kisses giving way to more urgent desperate ones, until finally they were both panting and needy. They would tear themselves away from each other, both of them in an agony of denial. A few minutes of enforced distance would let them once again carefully hold each other, until sleep took them into her arms instead. The rain drummed on the window, in a comforting drone while they slept.

Sleep was a relief and a trap. They would take turns waking, entwined around the body of the one they wanted, so close and yet unable to give each other what they so desperately needed. Kurt woke after a dream of making love with Blaine, digging his hips into him, and found himself kissing him in fever of desperation. He knew there was no denying it any longer; he was just as gay as Blaine was. Blaine had responded immediately, clutching him closer, until Kurt withdrew reluctantly in a moment of clarity. God, they had to stop!

"Blaine! No." he pushed himself off of Blaine, his eyes contradicting his words, saying he wanted him so badly.

Blaine rolled away to his other side, his breath heaving, staring into the dark. He couldn't look at Kurt, or touch him, or even think of him, or he was going to cry.

"I'm sorry, Blaine" Kurt whispered. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to make it worse." He hoped Blaine wasn't mad at him. Kurt knew he wasn't ready yet to follow where his dreams had recklessly dared to go. The hunger that possessed him when Blaine kissed him, held him and made him forget that what they wanted to share was forbidden. He could feel it growing inside him, his need for what Blaine was willing to give him, but the precipice he was hovering over was still too frightening.

Blaine nodded. "I know. I'm sorry too.. I just…._god_, Kurt. It felt so fucking good."

"I ... It did to me too, Blaine. I tried to tell myself that it was just being so close to you, that made me feel like this, but I know that's not it. Not anymore. I _want_…I want you too, the same way you want me."

Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, trying to see how Kurt felt about acknowledging what they both felt.

"Anita said that you only give your first time to somebody who is willing to give you their heart to keep in exchange. You already have mine, Kurt. I love you. I want to ask her if there's any way you can come with me, back to the time I come from. It's not safe here for you either and I don't want to leave you here."

Kurt caught his breath, at the idea. Go back with Blaine? Could he leave his father and Mercy behind, never to see them again? Would he fit in there? Where would he live? How would he get by? He needed to think and talk to his father and Anita to make this decision.

He was torn between hoping she was working on some way to get Blaine home, and being terrified that the boy he was falling in love with would leave him behind forever.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Another day passed, with the moments eroding away from under their feet like grains of sand on an island inundated by wave after wave of time. They did their best to hang on to whatever they had left together, but every time they looked away from each other, it seemed another hour was gone. Their most precious time was at night, talking while wrapped in each other's arms in bed together, but they inevitably fell asleep and lost precious hours they could never get back.

In the morning Kurt and Blaine went down to the kitchen to find the dirty plate that Burt had left behind still on the table, which meant Anita hadn't arrived yet. The weather was dark and dreary with heavy rain falling again, so perhaps she was waiting for a break in the weather. Kurt didn't mind, savouring more time with just the two of them. He made them some German Toast for breakfast with the end of a loaf, which Blaine told him was called French toast where he came from.

Geography aside, everything seemed to taste better here to Blaine. He assumed it was because everything was organic and fresh with some of Anita's delectable raspberry preserves from the previous year, or maybe it was because Kurt was sitting across from him, his eyes occasionally glancing up at him. Both of them enjoyed pretending mornings like this were a preview of a future they might spend together.

After the dishes were done, they decided to go back to bed to talk…and things. They had only kissed a few times. Well, by now it was more than a few, but it was still just kisses, so far. Kurt was becoming less inhibited about holding Blaine and kissing him, but so far he was still too apprehensive to follow his instincts and touch him the way he knew Blaine wanted to be touched. He had spent too long thinking that he wouldn't ever have intimacy with _anyone,_ much less another man.

Neither was sleepy but Kurt's bed felt like the only place they could safely relax and just be together without worrying about who might catch them, though Blaine was careful to observe Kurt's self-imposed boundaries. He knew that more skin, or more touching was beginning of a slippery slope to where he might go too far and ruin the progress he had made in convincing Kurt his urges weren't wrong and depraved.

It was hard to tell how much later it was when they heard the kitchen door announce someone, probably Anita, had arrived. They went downstairs reluctantly, before she decided they were misbehaving upstairs at this hour. But instead of Anita, they found Mercy in the kitchen, wound tight and vibrating with excitement, as she untied her damp shawl from her shoulders and shook it off, before hanging it near the stove to dry.

"Oh, there you are! I was afraid you'd gone out or something. Mama sent me to tell you visitors came yesterday. The man's name is Alfonse de Mirable. He's a …well, he's an Cajun spiritualist, or priest or something like that. He and Mama have been talking since he got here yesterday. He says a spirit spoke to him in a trance and he thinks he might be able to help Blaine, um, go back." She glanced at Blaine an Kurt, surprised by their lack of enthusiasm at her news.

"He's waiting there with his assistant, or whatever he is to meet Blaine, and you too, Kurt, as soon as we can get back there. Can you come back to my house now?" She stopped talking, still breathless from hurrying there, as she retied the kerchief over her hair, disarrayed from the wind and rain.

"Of course we can, Mercy. We can leave any time. I was starting to wonder what happened to both you and your Mama. I guess I should have known it would be something like this. Oh my, Mercy! Does he really think he can get Blaine home?" Kurt felt a frisson of dread at the thought that Blaine might soon be gone…leaving him here without him. He was torn between wanting to stay with Blaine and leaving his family behind, and found himself reaching for Blaine's hand.

Blaine put his hand over Kurt's, understanding how he felt, and also feeling a strong reluctance to go with Mercy. There was no guarantee this was going to work, but there was always a slim possibility it might, _if_ he went with Mercy. He glanced at Kurt, who had become adept at reading him.

"Blaine, you _know_ we have to try. We've talked about this inside out and upside down, and we have no choice. You have to everything you can to go back. We'll be right with you, Mercy." Kurt turned away to hide his face from Blaine as he found his shoes and donned his jacket. The sky had was still dark and overcast, threatening yet another storm, but his heart felt even darker at the thought that Blaine might soon leave him. If he could read Blaine, it stood to reason that Blaine would be just as able to tell how saddened he was at the thought of Blaine's leaving.

Blaine was quiet, but put on a borrowed jacket and his shoes, considering whether he might stay here with Kurt instead and face his doubtful future with him, instead of grasping at a thin chance to go home at the hands of some sort of half-assed magician. As they hurried down the street with Mercy, a soft drizzle started dampening their faces. Wonderful, Blaine thought fatalistically, as his hair once more turned into Gordian knots.

It seemed to take forever to reach the Jones' house. When they rounded the last stand of shrubs near the road, they found the porch huddled with people trying to stay dry. Kurt had met most of them before, so he knew they hadn't come with the recently arrived Master. He must be sort of a celebrity, Blaine murmured to Kurt, and these were his fans, hoping for a glimpse of the man reputed to be a powerful seer. Mercy waded through the crowd imperiously like a ship through the sea, leading them inside. The boys followed her, feeling all their eyes on them, everyone wondering what _they_ were doing there, the only two white faces in a sea of brown, black, and café au lait.

Inside, they found Anita sitting on the bench, with a mixed-blood man in his late thirties ensconced in her rocker before the fire. He had a cup of tea in his hand and he was gnawing on a chicken leg, increasing his resemblance to the raptor he reminded Kurt of. Near him stood a boy, about their age, with guarded dark eyes and smooth dark hair swept to one side. He scrutinized them curiously, with an interested half-smile.

The older man nodded his head to them politely, though he didn't go so far as to stand. M. de Mirable put down his chicken leg and wiped his fingers carefully on a napkin "_Bon jour, mon __amie__._ I am _enchante_ to make your acquaintance. _Je suis_ Alfonse de Mirable and this is my assistant, Étienne Marichel. Come closer, please. I am most anxious to talk with you. Which of you is Blaine, the young man who requires assistance? Madame Jones has told me some of the particulars of your story but I wish to know more, if I have any hope of reversing this miraculous event."

Blaine felt something cold skitter down his back when he looked into Alfonse's eyes. They revealed nothing personal, their obsidian glitter obscuring his thoughts. Kurt thought he looked like a hawk, with his thin face, dark eyes, black goatee and an acquisitive hungry look about him. Their hands found each other and locked fingers in an unspoken agreement to stay close to each other.

"I'm Blaine" he volunteered quietly, nodding his head politely to the man. Anita nodded imperceptibly at him, advising caution with every atom of her body. It wasn't necessary. Blaine instinctively mistrusted de Mirable and his assistant, who remained observing nearby.

"Ah, you are a stranger here. Is that correct? Tell me how it happened that you arrived here from your home." Alphonse peered directly into Blaine's eyes, hoping to read his thoughts and emotions. Blaine flinched perceptibly but regained his courage with a squeeze from Kurt's hand.

"Yes… sir. I was out walking to a friend's house when a thunder storm came up and I guess I must have been struck by lightning. I don't remember it, but when I woke up it sure felt like something big hit me. All my muscles were loose and wobbly and my head hurt like crazy. Kurt says he got hit by lightning in a thunderstorm too. The difference is, I started out a hundred and thirty five years from now and ended up here."

"You may address me as Maître, or M. de Mirable. I do not care to be addressed as 'sir', like those who seek to possess the bodies and souls of others." The visitor stood and walked closer to Blaine and Kurt, his eyes searching out every detail as he surveyed them. He inspected Blaine's shoes, noting immediately that they were anomalous. He put his finger under Blaine's chin and tipped it up to peer into his eyes from six inches away, looming over him menacingly. Blaine felt the rest of the world fading away, and fell into the black depths of the man's eyes, as a rushing sound filled his ears.

Kurt watched him staring fixed into Blaine's eyes for a moment or two, and then break the connection to transfer his attention to him. His eyes went to their hands, still linked together. He raised a finger to caress Kurt's hair lightly, with a barely there touch of appreciation, but it was enough to give Kurt a chill down his spine too. The Maître noticed his reaction and smiled at him. "Ah, you are so tender, so innocent. I feel a strong link between your hearts, but not yet of the flesh. Is this true?"

Kurt blushed to the roots of his hair, before chancing a quick look at Anita, silently demanding why she would have ever _told _him that. She shook her head vehemently, denying she had told him anything of their relationship. Blaine glanced to Anita, and answered the assertion tersely. "No. We _care_ about each other, but that's all…" Why would he ask that? Would he decide not to help them because they were gay? There were even _more_ intrusive questions to come.

"And you are both virgins; this is true also?" This time he looked to Kurt for an answer.

"Yes… Maître." Kurt whispered reluctantly, deciding that if their feelings were so obvious to everyone it was even more imperative that Blaine had to get home, no matter what.

"Écoutez, s'il vous plaît. This is what I believe. You are linked together, mon amie, by more than your hands." He smiled ironically at their joined hands. "I'm not sure yet how you managed it from so many years away but somehow Kurt, Blaine was pulled here to you. I need to know what you both were saying, thinking, hoping, and dreaming, at the moment the connection occurred. If we wish to reverse the link and send you back, I must learn everything about it."

The Maître let his finger drift down Blaine's chest to finger his sweater. Kurt could feel Blaine tensing, until he withdrew the hand and circled them one last time, quite aware of Blaine's repugnance. He stopped to look into Kurt's eyes again, placed both hands on his hips, and emitted a sharp snort.

"You do not _wish_ to release him, do you Kurt? I do not believe that Blaine can return alone to his time, when the link is much stronger now than when he was summoned. We are wasting our time to even try to break it. I have come a long way to meet someone who has travelled from the future, so at least my trip is not entirely wasted. I have some questions for you, Blaine, mon cher, and then Etienne and I shall leave."

"_No_!" Kurt objected, the rebuff torn out of him. "No. I'm sorry Maître, but we have to try. It's not safe for Blaine to stay here. He _has_ to go back. I will release him…I'll do whatever I have to, to help him." Kurt had reached his hand to catch at the sleeve of the man, but stopped short of touching him. He turned back, when Kurt had spoken, and now considered him, thoughtfully.

"Ah, but that is exactly my point, my young magician. You love him, and he loves you now. You cannot just stop your feelings, now that they have grown so strong. The only chance he has now to return to his time is for you to_ take_ him there with you. The link may be strong enough for you to return with him, though I believe it could be made still stronger. I am not very sure about his chances if you should try to send him alone, I'm afraid. He may end up adrift in time, with no anchor to pull him in again."

"Me? For _me _to take him there? Why do you think _I _was the one whosummoned him?" Kurt was baffled by the Maître's accusation that he was responsible.

"It's simple, ma cheri. He came to _you,_ not the other way around." The Maître sat down again, and shared a self-satisfied smile with Anita, who looked dismayed at his revelations. He resumed gnawing his chicken leg, looking more like a carrion bird than ever.

The man's young assistant, Étienne, now stood with his hands folded together in supplication and nodded his head politely to Blaine and Kurt before he spoke. "My master will take food and drink and then rest for an hour afterward. Then he will speak to you individually, first with Blaine, and then Kurt. When he is satisfied with your answers, he will consult with the spirits for direction. When he tells you his answer, you must accept it. There will be no questions and no answers given.

"Normally, he is paid a great deal of money for services such as these. He and Madame have agreed that in this case, the only payment he is to receive is whatever knowledge he can glean from you, M. Blaine and from you M. Kurt." Étienne bowed again to each of them in turn and then went into the other room. He seemed much more innocuous than the Maître, but he was the man's acolyte and his companion, so Blaine suspected he was more dangerous than he seemed.

It took only a glance for Kurt and Blaine to decide they needed to talk. They began to weave their way through the crowd on the porch again to find their way to the back yard. The Jones' farm comprised about fifteen acres, stretching behind the house from the road. They walked in the drizzle through the newly sprouting fields of grain, retreating from the sight of anyone, searching for privacy and solitude. They climbed a hillside behind the house and perched on a large flat rock overlooking the house and roadway. They were getting wet, but they needed to talk about what de Mirable had said.

"Do you think I summoned you?" Kurt asked Blaine, horrified at realizing that Blaine's predicament was his fault. He knew instinctively that de Mirable was absolutely right in his assertion.

"I don't know, but he said he wanted to know what you were thinking when it happened. Kurt, were you thinking of _me_? Of somebody for you to love?" Blaine was afraid that was what Kurt would say, because that was exactly what he had been thinking when it had happened.

"I…well, yes, I believe I was. I keep having these dreams where I'm standing on a hillside in a thunderstorm, with my arms raised, asking the storm for something. At the time, I was thinking that I hoped that the storm would bring me someone as perfect as my mother was for my father. The next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back with a headache and all my bones disconnected from my muscles, and then I found _you_. Oh my god, Blaine! Did I really do this to you?"

"I think we both did it, because I was thinking exactly the same thing when it happened. I was so damn tired of being lonely and I just finished thinking to myself that there had to be the perfect guy for me out there somewhere. I remember wondering when I would find him." Blaine reached his hand to Kurt, realizing he'd found him here. The only problem was that the perfect guy for him was born one hundred and thirty five years before he was.

They sat on the hillside, discussing le Maître's words. They knew that the link between them was very powerful now, having grown stronger every moment they had spent together for the nearly two weeks since the universe had lined up and granted them their wish. If the only way for Blaine to go home was with Kurt, then of course, he would go with him, to a time that wasn't his. He would have to leave his father and everyone else he knew behind, but Blaine had already taken his heart. Kurt would miss them terribly, but he knew he didn't want to face the future without Blaine.

Blaine knew there were huge risks for both of them if they stayed here, since they had little hope of hiding their attraction. Kurt convinced him that at least if they tried to return to his future, they would have a better chance of happiness. They promised each other that whatever happened, they would deal with it together. If that walking scarecrow back there wasn't a complete charlatan, they would do their best to share a future together.

When they judged enough time had elapsed they went back to the house and found Étienne waiting for them impatiently. He took them into Anita's bedroom, where there were dry clothes of Amos' waiting for them again. Catching pneumonia was no part of the plan so they changed, not nervous around each other anymore, but Étienne lingered nearby and watched them, his eyes showing much more interest than either of them was comfortable with.

When they were changed, he came to them and bowed again. "Please follow me." He led them back to Anita's kitchen.

"So, ma petit chat. Did you enjoy your treat?" The Maître smiled at Étienne, and ran his hand down his shoulder in an intimate gesture that told the boys a great deal about them. Étienne smiled and bobbed his head in a grateful nod, saying thank you to his master.

"Dites-moi, lequel d'entre eux préférez-vous ?"

Blaine glanced at Kurt, wondering if he'd caught that de Mirable had asked his pupil which of them he preferred. Kurt's stare told him he certainly had. They watched the boy turn to nod at Kurt, and then turn back to his master. "

"Vous êtes très sage, mon cœur de lion. Il est celui qui a le pouvoir." Le Maître smiled in amusement and indicated, with an imperiously raised finger, that he wanted to speak to only one of them. Étienne was pleased that the master had confirmed that he had chosen the one with the power. Étienne took Kurt's sleeve to lead him out, with more eagerness than he should have shown, his eyes drifting down his body as he guided him. He dearly wished he could convince Kurt to take him for his lover instead of the curly headed sheep, but even he could tell how closely their hearts and souls were linked.

Kurt shook off Étienne's guiding hand, then waited and paced in the parlour. He chewed his nails, wondering what de Mirable and Blaine were talking about.

"What are they doing in there for so long?" He whispered to Anita who was waiting there with Mercy, ousted from her own kitchen and relegated to an onlooker. She merely shrugged nervously. Le Maître's talents were very different from hers and she understood very little of what he had told her, especially since he kept lapsing into Cajun French. She had merely sent out a plea for knowledge and he had answered her request for help. She wasn't privy to exactly how he intended to accomplish restoring the boys to another time, just that there was a spirit who would help him.

She had spent the day before trying to figure out if he could really do what he said he could. She was still at a loss, though she was convinced that de Mirable believed he could help. She was not as convinced of his abilities. He was missing the resonance that great power should have. But that didn't necessarily mean he didn't have power, just that she couldn't feel it.

She more hope of success when she heard the spiritualist say that Kurt had summoned Blaine and that _he_ was the one with the ability to commune with storms and focus their power to his own needs. Anita had always felt something there was something special about Kurt, but little had she guessed how very special he was. She had the ability to read people's emotions, if the circumstances were right and often been able to tell the sex of babies, long before they were born. She could tell whenever there was a storm on its way, hours before it happened.

Mercy had inherited none of her abilities from her. Anita had watched and waited, since often you couldn't tell for sure until after puberty, but she had sensed nothing of power in her daughter. That was why she hadn't taught her any of the things her mother had passed to her. It was best if the knowledge was forgotten rather than risk it being misunderstood and misused.

But Kurt… Yes, de Mirable was right. Kurt _had _untapped power. If she had realized it sooner, she could have taught him some things, trained him in how to use his power instead. Ah well, if all went well, her adopted son would leave them forever, so perhaps it was just as well that she hadn't. It was a pity though. He could have been much more powerful with training, far more than anyone of her people had been for generations.

Finally Blaine returned looking a bit dazed, and Étienne led Kurt into the kitchen to be analyzed next. Blaine seemed almost as confused as the first day she had met him, as Anita brought him to her rocker. Mercy gave him tea again, sweetened with honey. It was the best she had for shock if you didn't have any brandy.

The Maître had asked him question after question, first about himself and then about Kurt. He learned that he believed Kurt was still hesitant about being homosexual and fighting falling in love with him, though Blaine calmly confessed his love for Kurt, completely accepting his orientation after five years of living with the knowledge.

Then de Mirable asked about the island of Haiti and the success of the slave revolt there. He was frustrated at Blaine's lack of knowledge on the subject, and confused by many other things he told him, not comprehending half of what he said. He carefully filed away what he heard, aware that knowledge was nearly as valuable as gold, in the right hands, hoping someday he would understand more of what he had learned

He quickly hypnotized Kurt, and asked him about his dreams, quickly seizing upon the ones of wild wind and rain. He learned he had not yet used his power for anything else, since he was unaware he even had those abilities. What a dreadful pity, that Kurt knew so little about how to harness his talents. He had hoped to make the boy grant some of his desires too, but was discovered that his love for Blaine was too strong to allow him to let de Mirable take liberties with his body, and his single-minded determination to save Blaine meant he wasn't amenable to any delays either. Too bad, because he could have taught him so much!

Then le Maître asked about Kurt's feelings for the boy he had drawn to him over the barrier of time, finding him entirely astonished at how sweet and loving Blaine was, though he reluctantly admitted he was trying to fight his strong attraction to him. He found satisfaction in telling Kurt he could allow himself to indulge his desires now. They had to use every path to reinforce the bond between them even closer.

Both boys were sweet and succulent, like freshly picked fruit, with the dew still on them. Neither had been tasted yet, by someone who knew how to distil their delectable essence, like a fine brandy. He consoled himself that one could not have everything one wished for. He did decide that he would ensure that they got to experience the delights of the flesh before they risked death. Death was a very real possibility for both of them, if any of ten different things went wrong, so they should at least get to express the most precious aspect of their love first, to draw them even closer than they were now.

Étienne slipped in the back door the kitchen, though he knew he shouldn't intrude on his master while he was at work. He had let his yearning for the more powerful of the boys over-rule his good sense. The Maître should have been angrier at being disturbed, but he had nearly finished with Kurt by then anyway. He waited silently while Étienne crept closer, finally gaining the courage to put his hand on his shoulder, silently asking permission. He glanced at him and Étienne smiled hopefully. His pupil held power over him too. Alphonse knew he was getting soft, allowing his acolyte to take liberties he shouldn't. He thought with a shiver of his lithe body writhing under him, yielding and open. He nodded once, giving his permission.

Étienne eagerly went to Kurt and kneeled in front of him, his hand rising to cup Kurt's face. Kurt looked back at him with empty eyes, still under the trance the master had put him in. He let his hand slide down his chest into Kurt's shirt and brushed his thumb against his nipple. It responded by hardening to a nub, but Kurt didn't show any visible response. The boy leaned in to gently taste his mouth. Kurt didn't resist, but he didn't respond either, his eyes remaining blankly half closed. Étienne let his shoulders slump in disappointment, so de Mirable intervened.

"It is Blaine you are kissing, Kurt. Show him how you love him." Alphonse crooned softly, with a grateful hum from the boy as a reward. Kurt immediately leaned toward him and pressed his lips against Étienne's. His arms wrapped around his neck and he exhaled happily. Alphonse watched his acolyte, pupil, lover, son… he was all those things to him, steal a heated kiss from Kurt for a moment or two, knowing he would be reimbursed later for his generosity. But time was passing and they still had much to do. Enough.

"I shall count to three and you will awake refreshed….one…two…three. Wake up, my sweet magician." Étienne made a brief sound of resistance as Kurt pulled back from his mouth and blinked sleepily at him. The boy sighed dejectedly and withdrew, retreating behind his master, putting his hand on his shoulder in thanks.

Alphonse didn't acknowledge him this time. The boy was getting too sure of himself. He knew that in only a few years, Étienne would be the master and he would be only a quickly fading memory. That was how the world worked,…unless you were powerful enough to control a storm and make it do your will. Etienne was still too young to understand that he no hope of making Kurt see anyone but Blaine, even if could be fooled for a few minutes to accept a decoy. Love had blinded him to anyone else, no matter what they offered him.

Kurt shook his head, trying to clear the fog. He didn't remember much of what the Maître had asked him…almost nothing really. He had asked where he lived, and about his mother and father. He had asked about Blaine, and what he had been thinking when the strike had occurred. He remembered little else, though he felt vaguely uncomfortable. He wanted Blaine, his comforting nearness helping to make him feel right again.

Étienne emerged from behind his master and led him to the front room again, with something in his eyes that made Kurt squirm uneasily. The young apprentice might be only a boy, but Kurt sensed that he was nearly as potent as his master. As soon as he re-entered the room, Blaine came to him and took his hands, both of them much happier now. The boy watched them coolly as Mercy hugged Kurt and sat with them at the fireplace.

In a couple more years he would have been strong enough, mature enough, and powerful enough to take Kurt for his own. With his power and Kurt's they could have done_ anything_. Étienne followed le Maître because he gave him a thrill he found nowhere else. But Kurt… Kurt was also so very beautiful and had so much more potential than the Master. He intensely regretted the lack of training that meant he would never get to experience all that Kurt had to offer. He still had too much to learn from the master.

He had left his teacher entering his own trance after he gave Etienne his instructions, hoping to commune with the spirits for guidance in the most dangerous of any of the things they had tried, so far. Étienne strongly suspected they would fail, except for the fact that Kurt was nearly strong enough to do this on his own. He only needed le Maître's guidance

After a while, de Mirable came out and spoke to those assembled in the front room. "I have determined there is a possibility of returning Blaine to his time, but _only_ if Kurt accompanies him. They must both concentrate on the same goal, _at_ the same time, _in_ the same time, for them to arrive together. Their link is now very strong, but it _can_ be strengthened still more. If this link is tempered in the heat of passion, it will greatly enhance their chances of remaining together."

"Tonight, you will spend here making love to complete your bond. Tomorrow, I shall invoke a thunderstorm, and you my young magician, will appeal to it, or focus it, or do whatever it is you do, to return you both to Blaine's time."

"If you are successful, then I strongly suggest you do not again go into the rain and think of being elsewhere. If you are _not_ successful, I wish you peace and bon chance wherever you land. I shall purify you both tonight before you join, and again tomorrow, before we make the attempt. Savour this night gentlemen, because it may be all you ever have of each other. Now wait while we make preparations, and I send Étienne to summon you."

He smiled in amusement at their stunned faces looking back at him. Neither dared to look at anyone else. Oh…my…god! Both boys were freaking now. Blaine was terrified that if anyone else around here should find out what le Maître had told them to do, they would be murdered in their bed. He was not convinced this guy had the faintest clue of what he was doing. God knew, they sure as hell didn't. Blaine stole a glance at Kurt and caught him looking back at him with an uncertain glance. He could see Kurt was just as was leery of this whole thing.

To tell the truth, Kurt felt a little numb. They were supposed to sleep together? Well, to do far more than sleep actually. True, joining would draw them closer, permitting himself to surrender to the things he kept submerged below his conscious level. If that's what would help to get Blaine home, then he would allow him to…make love to him. His heart beat like a caged bird in his chest at the thought of allowing himself to do the things he wanted to do to Blaine.

Mercy sat and blinked at Le Maître disbelievingly, deciding the man was making it up as he went along. That boy with him was the creepiest boy she had ever met and her two friends were supposed to do _what_ tonight? On the other hand, her mother was unlikely to find anyone who had been in this situation before, and she had often told her a healer often went on instinct, trusting their power to tell them what to do. She was wavering between doubtful and hopeful, that this was going to work. She only hoped that whatever happened, the boys came out safe _somewhere_.

Anita was also suspicious of the man's credentials. She could feel that he had some power, but so did Kurt and his pupil. Lots of people had power they never recognized, and far fewer of them ever learned to harness it. It was apparent that the man was not the powerhouse she had hoped for, but he had learned to use what he had very effectively. Her own instincts were telling her that trusting him was their only alternative. She only hoped the boys didn't suffer the consequences for his incompetence.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The gawkers loitering outside on the porch had gone home after Anita announced there was nothing more happening tonight. Nothing that was any of their business, at least. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and found the boys waiting in a state of wide-eyed apprehension, alone out on the porch. She told them she and Mercy were going to go to spend the night at Kurt's house, which meant _she_ would be the one to tell Burt what the boys would be doing tonight, together in her bed.

Kurt nodded numbly. "Of course you can use my room. Tell him I love him, will you Anita?" There was so much more he wanted to tell his father, but he wanted to say those things to him in person. Somehow, he had to find a way to say goodbye forever to the person who had been the centre of his life.

She nodded understandingly, with an encouraging pat on the arm. "It will all end up fine, Kurtie. I can feel it in my bones." They shared a wavering smile, both wishing they were more sure of de Mirable's success tomorrow.

Kurt knew his doubt of de Mirable's abilities was discernible when he felt Blaine's hand steal into his and squeeze it. He must look entirely unnerved, if everyone felt they should offer _him_ comfort. He tried to look more self-assured, but they knew him too well to be fooled.

He and Blaine had discussed de Mirable's pronouncement earlier on the hill and decided that they would both try their best to follow this fiasco through. Who knew? It might even work. The hard part was that, if it did work, he might soon be leaving everyone he had loved behind forever to start a new life with a boy he'd only met a couple weeks ago. Talking to his father one more time wouldn't make it any easier to leave him…or to leave Mercy, who enveloped the boy she loved in a heartfelt hug that lasted for long minutes, long enough to last their lifetimes hopefully.

"I'll see you tomorrow, before he tries… whatever it is he's going to do. Have a_ really_ good night, boys." Mercy gave him a twinkling smile to cover her urge to cry and glanced a quick goodbye smile to Blaine before she left with her mother. It was hard not to resent him coming between them, but she was doing her best to understand that Blaine could give Kurt the love that he would never accept from her.

When they lost sight of them walking down the road, Kurt and Blaine gazed at each other. "Are you scared?' Blaine whispered softly, a telltale hint of distress in his own eyes. Kurt considered carefully.

"No, not about tonight…not with you." He might be stretching the truth a bit there. He _was_ a bit intimidated about what the night would hold, but not really frightened down deep. Kurt knew that they loved each other, and that would override everything else. Lord, in a way, it would be _such_ a relief to finally be able to follow through instead of always holding back. It was what came after, on the next day, that scared the bejeebers out of him. What if they just disappeared and never reappeared anywhere, lost in between times? Worse, Blaine might leave him here without him to face the rest of his life alone, knowing he was too far away to ever reach him.

"I _am _scared silly about tomorrow, though. I'm not so sure de Mirable knows what he's doing." There was no point in thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Blaine knew them just as well as he did.

Blaine sighed, but didn't say anything. He needed Kurt, if he was going to get home, but Kurt didn't need to take this risk. Kurt saw Blaine's face looking undecided and knew what he was thinking when he began speaking. "Maybe we should…"

"No! We're going through with this, Blaine. I want to walk down the street holding your hand, and some day be able to marry you. That can never happen if we stay here, not in our lifetimes. And there is a big risk we won't have any future together, if you stay."

Blaine smiled wanly and tried to pretend he believed those things were going to be a possibility for them, that he and his boyfriend could travel through time. Well, they could stay here and live in constant fear of their relationship being uncovered, or risk _everything_ to be together back in his time. Kurt was right. There really wasn't much choice, when you came right down to it. They had to try any slight chance of success. He got here, so why couldn't they go back?

The sky was turning dark again, the clouds obscuring the setting sun about to drop below the trees across the road. A chill breeze was starting, so Blaine put an arm around his boyfriend, seeking solace and wanting to give some in turn. They leaned together, absorbing comfort from each other, though Kurt couldn't help glancing around nervously to be sure no one was watching them.

Le Maître had instructed Étienne to prepare lots of hot water for a ceremonial cleansing for each of the boys, while he was interviewing them. He had prepared The Jones' tub, half full with warm water, crumbling a mix of potent herbs into it, to cleanse away any residual malignant aura surrounding the boys. Then he laid out the soft Turkish towels his teacher had sent to him from a Cabalist in Spain the year before, and two sets of white ceremonial garments that had not yet been used.

Étienne believed that it was no coincidence that what they needed was readily at hand. Admittedly, there was an element of showmanship in their work, but there was truly something mystical going on too. He had seen de Mirable accomplish too many unexplained mysteries to not believe in his abilities. He needed to learn how to summon that power; then he would have the respect the master enjoyed.

When he had finished, he went outside and found Kurt. "Follow me, s'il vous plais." He murmured his request politely with a small bow. Kurt glanced at Blaine, and reached his hand to invite him to come with him. Étienne merely shook his head in denial and watched Blaine sit down again with satisfaction. He was looking forward to this too much to be thwarted by his boyfriend's presence.

Kurt followed Étienne, with a resigned parting glance back to Blaine. He led Kurt inside to the tub, and indicated with a gesture that he should get in it. Kurt glanced at the water for a second, then at the assistant, whose dark eyes always seemed to be on him. He steeled himself and reluctantly began to undo his buttons. Once he was down to his under clothes he turned his back to him before he dropped them and quickly sank into the water, with a charming blush blooming all down his body.

Étienne tried not to show his appreciation of Kurt's lovely body, knowing he'd already guessed he was a little too absorbed in him. He merely waited patiently with a jug of warm water for him to finish washing his hair, like a good servant should. He slowly poured the water over him, and watched the water run in rivulets down his smooth white skin. Then he took a cloth and began to wash the flawless skin on his back and shoulders, with a light and delicate touch. As soon as he began to circle Kurt's body to his front, Kurt caught his hand, stopping him from going farther. Their eyes met, and Kurt shook his head. "I'll do it."

Merde! In truth, it mattered not at all whodid the washing, just that it was done.

"Ensure you are thorough." Étienne conceded the cloth gracefully, passing it to Kurt with a small shrug of acceptance. He stayed nearby though, adding some more hot water after a few moments, and watching him surreptitiously. Kurt wasmeticulous in his ablutions, self-consciously washing most carefully with the cloth and the sweetly scented soap. Étienne helpfully poured more water over his body afterward to rinse him off, and then held the towel for him to step into.

Kurt pulled the towel out of Étienne's hands and wrapped it around himself securely, to hide from his intense gaze. He had made up his mind he would do whatever he had to, to ensure Blaine ended up safely in his own time, no matter how uncomfortable he felt, but Étienne wasn't making it easy for him.

When he finished drying himself off, Kurt combed his wet hair back with his fingers, assuming the ritual was finished. Étienne shook his head, and softly said he must anoint him now with a jar of scented cream, to maintain the defence of the herbs. Kurt tried to take it from him and do that himself too, but Étienne insisted hewould first do the parts he couldn't reach. Kurt closed his eyes and bore it as well as he could, the boy's warm hands spreading the lotion sensually over his back and shoulders as he tried not to flinch.

Étienne was very happy to have won that skirmish, though he could feel how tense the muscles were under his fingers. Kurt's skin was as soft as he had thought it might be, and he revelled in smoothing his hands over Kurt's smooth flawless skin. He'd added finely powdered sea shells to impart a subtle iridescent sparkle, and almond oil to give off a wonderful scent, and to make his skin glow, in addition to a distillation of the same herbs as those added to the bath water. He knew that Kurt would balk if he tried to touch him below the towel, but he was so very tempted to try it anyway. He reluctantly left him to finish the job himself, with a murmur to take care, because the lotion was bitter to the tongue. Kurt blushed again, but avoided specific areas, with his back turned to him.

Étienne busied himself emptying some of the bath water while he finished, then indicated Kurt should don a gauzy white set of garments, consisting of loose trousers gathered with a ribbon tied at the waist, and a wrap jacket secured with a sash belt. Kurt still felt nearly naked when he was finished. He could see his limbs through the lightweight material quite easily. He was very grateful the light was so dim, with the soft rain drumming on the roof.

Étienne surveyed his work with a pleased smile when he was done and decided Kurt looked absolutely ethereal, like he imagined the angels in heaven looked. It was such a pity that he would never get to do more than prepare him for another man. He sighed in acceptance of his role, but determined to enjoy whatever pleasure he could glean from his preparations.

"Please wait in the salon, while Blaine is bathed next." He indicated the door to the front room, so Kurt left him, with a flash of jealously glittering in his eyes at the thought that Étienne would get to touch Blaine's naked body at _all_. He stamped it down, and reminded himself that Blaine had to submit to the same process he had endured.

He found le Maître sitting by the fire in Anita's rocker with his eyes closed, a goblet of wine clasped loosely in his hand. Was he sleeping, or communing with whatever spirits he was in contact with? Kurt got his answer when he sat on the settee. His black eyes opened, and surveyed him silently from head to toe. He nodded once in approval, then closed his eyes again to wait for the other boy. The wine glass in his hand was made of an unevenly swirled dark glass, strangely primitive yet very lovely, like a night-fog shaped into a vessel.

De Mirable had been deep in sentimental self-pity, instead of properly preparing himself for the next day, as he originally intended. He had given up any hope of finding his own soul-mate in this life time. He had been travelling alone for over twenty years, since the end of his own apprenticeship at the side of his teacher.

He'd stopped at an inn in his travels, and seen Étienne watching him with those bottomless dark eyes from the kitchen doorway. The boy had followed him to his chamber that night and begged to go with him when he left. He'd taken him to his bed with him that night, undrugged and aware of the price he would pay for his training. Most of de Mirable's sexual encounters consisted of payment for services rendered, since few ever sought his bed willingly.

They had been together now for almost two years and he could feel that the balance of power was shifting steadily toward the boy. Alphonse found he needed Étienne more than he had ever foreseen, though he was well aware the boy harboured little feeling for him, other than proper gratitude for his training. He had watched in amusement while his apprentice had seduced a servant girl in one of the grand houses they had visited, just to see if he could, and was surprised to feel a pang of jealousy when the boy was gone for the entire night.

He would allow Étienne to indulge his appetites, if only he would stay a little longer with him. He had mixed up two doses of the drug in the wine, enough for the two sweet virgins to ease their apprehension, and another for he and Étienne to indulge in later. It helped to dull the awareness that their time together was nearing its end, though for Alphonse it was tinged with regret and for Étienne with eagerness.

It seemed to Kurt that it took forever for Blaine to rejoin them, looking somewhat abashed in the same flowing white garments Kurt was wearing. He was freshly shaved and his skin glowed with the same scented cream that Kurt had been anointed with. Le Maître had spared a glance for Blaine too when he arrived, but waited patiently for his assistant to signal that all was ready before he spoke to them. Étienne remained behind in the kitchen, cleaning up the room, and finishing the preparations for the next part of the night, before his master and he also bathed in the cleansing water.

Le Maître set the glass down on the lamp table before he stood and breathed in deeply and exhaled again portentously, signifying something important was about to happen. He slowly reached a hand out to each of them and waited until they rose to their feet to take it, so they were all three linked together. He nodded to their free hands, so they joined those together too, to make a circle.

He spoke sonorously, performing the ritual between them. "You were linked together first by friendship, then by affection, and now by devotion. You shall be linked even closer tonight by your passion, when you share the highest and most exquisite level of love. Kurt, you called Blaine to you when you asked the spirit of the tempest for your perfect match. Blaine, you went to Kurt when you wished for someone who would love you perfectly. This joining of your two halves to make a whole will bind you together permanently, to enable you to reach your next destination. You must _both_ entreaty the storm for what you want, from the depths of your hearts and perhaps it will be granted. I wish you well in your future, whenever it occurs."

He dropped their hands and turned to reach for the glass. He offered it first to Kurt, cupped formally in his hands. He looked into the dark ruby liquid suspiciously. Swirled into the wine was something not quite fluid, barely a disturbance on the surface of the red wine. Blaine hoped to hell there was no chicken blood in there or something equally as disturbing and wished now he hadn't watched so many zombie movies. They both looked to De Mirable's eyes, and saw him raise the cup to Kurt again insistently. "You would do best to accept it." He murmured in encouragement. Kurt braced himself and watched the wine swirl as he took a very large swallow, knowing that if it tasted nasty, he would never get it past his mouth again. He swallowed it with an audible gulp, the slightly bitter aftertaste rising in his throat.

Le Maître nodded in satisfaction and offered it to Blaine next. He told himself, that if Kurt did it he could too, and took a big gulp too. It had a slightly acidic powdery aftertaste, like a good Burgundy mixed with something faintly bitter. The master closed his eyes and began to mumble something that sounded like an invocation, while they watched him. Kurt squeezed his hand, and Blaine smiled at him encouragingly.

After a few moments, Blaine found himself tempted to chuckle at nothing, and realized that he was starting to feel a bit high. He'd taken a hit from a spliff once at a party and this felt a lot like that, though now he was starting to see halos around the lamp lights. Whoa, _that_ was new. They were sooo pretty, but not nearly as pretty as Kurt. His hair was shining in the lamplight, looking amazing. Hey, awesome, Kurt had a halo…it was no surprise that the boy he loved was an angel!

Kurt was looking at him with a vacant admiring smile on his face too. Yup, they were both stoned. "Hey, buddy, you didn't need to rufie us. We are _definitely_ on board with the plan, man!" Blaine protested half-heartedly, but he felt pretty awesome, so he wasn't that bent about being drugged.

De Mirable chuckled at him in amusement. "The intoxication will only last a short while, just to take the edge off your inhibitions and make the first time easier. After that, what you feel will come from your hearts. I hope you know how incredibly lucky you are Blaine, to have been found by the one who completes you. Most search for their whole lives and never find them. This is my gift to you both. Bon nuit, et bon chance, mon amie."

He nodded to Étienne, who motioned the boys to follow him to Anita' and Amos' room. The bedding had been changed with one of de Mirable's own dark blue silk sheets gleaming in the candlelight. Étienne had removed the quilt and left a white woven blanket made of something incredibly soft looking. Candles had been lit all over the room and fresh roses from Anita's garden, the same as those now in full bloom behind the Hummel's porch, were perfuming the room. On the table was a blue jar with a silver lid that strongly reminded Blaine of a jar of Noxzema. He chuckled in amusement at the disparity of seeing it here then it struck him what it was for and he stopped chuckling. Holy crap, that was probably the local equivalent of lube!

When Blaine turned back to Kurt, he discovered that Étienne was quietly shutting the door behind him as he left them. They were alone together now and free to do whatever they wanted. Kurt was staring at him with his eyes dark and intense, but hadn't said anything at all yet. Kurt was admiring Blaine's bright yellow and red aura, and knew he wanted to warm himself at his flame.

"Are you okay, hon?" Blaine asked him solicitously. He hadn't said anything since he'd taken that big gulp of whatever they'd been drugged with, so he assumed Kurt must be half stoned too. His eyes seemed huge and the deep blue of the sky at night.

His answer was for Kurt to take a step toward him and kiss him till he was breathless. "hmmm." Blaine hummed in satisfaction, as they wrapped around each other. Oh yessss. This was more like it. He felt Kurt smiling back as they shifted against each other, trying to find the perfect fit. Blaine felt like he was beginning to float above the floor, as he finally got to kiss Kurt without worrying about being discovered or holding back.

Kurt reached his hands inside his jacket, up his chest to his shoulders to gently slide it off to hang by the belt. His hands smoothed down his back, then stretched flat on his shoulder blades, in an ecstatic expression of happiness at the contact of his warm skin. Blaine broke the kiss to drop kisses down Kurt's neck and chest as he undid his belt to drop the jacket and then pulled him close.

Kurt had completely lost the shyness he found so adorable, but instead he was thrilling him by revelling in taking what he wanted. Blaine wondered fleetingly if this feeling of ecstatic happiness was from the drug or from finally being with Kurt, but then he entirely lost track of what he was thinking, when Kurt shed his own jacket and pulled him close to kiss him again, with their chests in full contact. A helpless sound escaped Blaine when he felt Kurt hard against his hip. He could feel Kurt's thigh pressing against him too, and wanted more.

When Kurt broke off the kiss, he leaned back to look into Kurt's eyes, all dark and smokey, only inches from his. "I want…" Kurt began, then stopped, unable to put into words the breadth of what he wanted. He wanted _all_ of Blaine. He just didn't know where to start. "you", he finished.

Blaine nodded his agreement, understanding what Kurt couldn't say, and turned them toward the bed. They fell onto it and wrapped around each other again. Kurt leaned over Blaine, and tasted Blaine's mouth, his face and his neck, awash in feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. He worked his way down Blaine's chest, trying to slow his movements to savour the experience. They had all night to discover each other.

Blaine wove his hands into Kurt's hair as he felt him kiss and bite and lick his way across his pecs. His tongue tripped over a nipple and Blaine felt a jolt of pleasure make him clench his muscles. Kurt's hand was travelling farther down to a place he'd never let it go before. He felt him squeeze his ass, and Blaine felt his hips press up into Kurt, his cock instinctively seeking friction against him. This was where they'd always drawn back, but tonight they could follow their urges to the inevitable conclusion.

In answer, Kurt pushed his cock harder against Blaine's thigh, both of them understanding what they wanted. Kurt lifted himself to one elbow and looked into Blaine's eyes, asking permission for more, as his hand slid down his side to his hip. Blaine nodded eagerly. God, yes.

Blaine's erection was clearly visible through the sheer material, straining for release. Kurt undid the ribbon tying lightweight cotton pants and opened them, rucking the fabric around his hips as he gently wrapped his hand around his shaft. Blaine's cock was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Kurt's face showed his delight, with his tongue emerging to touch his lip.

Blaine moaned, and closed his eyes, feeling Kurt's warm soft hand grasp him. His hips spasmed again, and they both watched a bead of precome emerge to glisten on the head. Kurt's thumb slid up over it to lubricate the sensitive surface, knowing that's what it was for. Of course he knew, his own cock was leaking now too. Blaine watched his tongue lick his lips hungrily, and the same thought went through both their heads at once. Kurt spared a quick smile for him before he bent to take it in his mouth.

A high whine tore from Blaine's throat when he felt the heat of Kurt's mouth on him. Oh god! He'd dreamed for _so_ long of what this would feel like, but none of his heated imaginings even came close. He pressed his hips to the bed with all his strength to keep from shoving himself down Kurt's throat. Kurt was swirling his tongue around, imagining what would feel good, and began to move his hand up and down in concert with his mouth. Blaine was engulfed in pleasure so overwhelming, it would end in only seconds if Kurt kept it up.

"Kurt! Stop! Oh god, I can't handle that, without losing it. Oh, that feels so incredible." Kurt's head rose up, his lips pink and swollen and his eyes so dark and sexy, to meet Blaine's eyes looking down at him. Oh my god, how was he going to last? "I need a second" Blaine panted at him, his whole body seized tight to try to hold back his hovering orgasm.

Kurt nodded. His body was fizzling with excitement too. If Blaine came now, he would lose control too, before Blaine ever touched him. And he _so _wanted Blaine to touch him. "We need to get these pants off." Blaine said softly, echoing Kurt's thoughts. There was a flurry of wriggling until they both tossed the garments to the floor, and then they were naked. Blaine kissed him again, his hands exploring Kurt, sliding up a sharp hip bone and over it to trail his fingers down the soft rounded slope of his haunch to his thigh and back up to rest on Kurt's hip again. Kurt whined low, encouraging him to do more. His cock was aching to be touched.

Blaine watched Kurt's eyes as he dropped his hand to wrap around his cock. They closed briefly in gratitude, and reopened with a soft sigh of satisfaction. His hand travelled father down, to cup his balls, and Kurt's legs opened wider to admit him. He wanted Blaine to touch him all over. His fingers briefly caressed him back even farther, lightly circling. Kurt was surprised when he felt a high whine escape. Of course he had masturbated, but he'd never guessed how sensitive he was _there_. He was so grateful Blaine knew so much more than he did about …making love.

"Show me what to do." He whispered, his voice low and raspy. Blaine nodded, and glanced up to the table for the jar. He had purchased condoms at home, ready for the day he first had sex, but he was really glad they didn't have to use them here. He wanted to feel Kurt, everywhere.

"How…do you want this to go?" Blaine asked, evoking a puzzled expression from Kurt. "You or me?" Blaine glanced down to Kurt's gorgeous cock and knew what he wanted. Kurt shrugged in answer, not caring which way they started. He intended to try both.

"Wait…before we… I have to." Blaine knelt back and dropped his mouth to Kurt's cock, letting it slide back slowly into his throat. Kurt's breath exploded and he whimpered high and desperate. "Oh my god! This is how it felt to you!" It was clear now why Blaine had stopped him. He'd never felt anything half as good as Blaine's mouth and tongue on him, his hand gently pumping him. He closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him. His release was still waiting, a little way off, too surprised and intent on the pleasure to let him fall. He was mumbling sounds, encouraging Blaine, his self-control nearly gone, when he felt Blaine's fingers at his ass again.

He suddenly let out a sharp warning sound and tensed his muscles, balancing on the brink of coming. Blaine felt his body tense, waiting for his signal to back off and released Kurt's cock with a pop of his lips. Kurt groaned, desperately wanting him to keep going, but knowing they had to slow this down again. Blaine was watching him, his eyes taking him in. God, Kurt looked so sexy, his breath panting and his body spread wantonly out before him, and oh god, he wanted to make this the best he could for him.

"I love you so much." Blaine breathed out to him softly. Sharing this with Kurt was everything he had always dreamed of.

Kurt eyes gazed back at him lovingly, making his heart clench with all the feeling inside him, trying to get out all at once. "I love you too … I want to know what it feels like to be inside you." Blaine nodded eagerly. He wanted that too and they could have it now.

Blaine knew it was supposed to be easier for the first time to lie on his belly but he wanted to see Kurt, when they joined. He had his legs spread as wide as they went, with one knee pulled up. Kurt was squirming everywhere while he prepared Blaine, unable to hold himself still. He was sure he would explode the second he touched Blaine with his cock, and he nearly did. Blaine was panting and sweating by then, his eyes half closed and god, the sounds he was making were driving him crazy with want.

Kurt went slowly at first, carefully sinking farther into the tight hot slippery feeling. He couldn't move once he bottomed out, and simply lay still panting hard. Blaine was whining high and desperate, begging him to move, but he couldn't or he would die from pleasure overload. Finally he pulled back and let himself slowly sink again, drawing a groan of satisfaction from Blaine. They shared an astonished smile. They were doing this! They were fucking.

Slowly at first, then with more confidence and then with euphoric bliss, they rocked back and forth. Kurt knew he was going to come soon, and unable to talk, he whimpered urgently. Blaine nodded, understanding his warning and pumped his cock a for a minute, before the rhythmic spasms started squeezing Kurt, and a stream of come shot over Blaine's fist onto his belly while he made helpless sounds of pleasure. Kurt felt his orgasm explode from his core out the white hot edges of his nerves, to wring every ounce of bliss from him. He weakly twitched for long moments, unable to control any of his muscles.

When he opened his eyes, Blaine had his arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his legs around his thighs, one hand playing with his hair. Kurt's breath on Blaine's sweaty neck was slowing. "Blaine…." he whispered in awe. Blaine nodded, understanding what his brain refused to form into words. "Me too" he said, with a sated smile. Kurt kissed his neck, and nuzzled him happily until Blaine shifted uncomfortably under him. Guiltily, Kurt pulled himself together and rolled to his side.

Blaine glanced down to the cooling pool on his belly and grimaced, too limp to move yet. He emitted a sigh of gratification. "You're amazing. I am so glad to have shared that with you." Blaine said, lifting to one elbow to kiss Kurt.

He smiled back at his boyfriend. "My lord, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me. Are you sore?" Kurt asked solicitously, feeling abashed at how hard he had been thrusting near the end, forgetting all about Blaine.

"A little sensitive maybe, but it is so worth it, baby. Let's clean up a bit so I can hold you without getting it everywhere. I want to kiss you for a while. Some soap and water took care of the sticky mess, and they wrapped around each other to relish the feeling of being allowed whatever they wanted. Blaine had his hand between Kurt's legs, cradling his balls tenderly, as he kissed Kurt's shoulder.

"Now I know what de Mirable meant by our passion binding us together. I feel so much closer to you now. Do you think this feeling lasts forever, or fades away when we're not lying next to each other?" Kurt asked his lover what he thought, as he let his fingers run up and down the hair on Blaine's belly. It felt so good to not worry about whether it was allowed anymore. It was perfect permissible to caress Blaine, in whatever way he wanted. He could think of lots of ways to make Blaine happy, several of which he still intended to try tonight.

"I can't imagine ever losing this feeling, but I imagine it's not as strong when I can't feel you against me like this. I love the feel of you lying on me. Do you like it too?" Blaine asked as he suddenly erupted to roll over Kurt and kiss him leisurely. Kurt opened his legs and Blaine settled between them, like he was made to be there. He grinned happily as he felt Kurt half hard again between them. He bit his lip coyly as he grinned back at him, wondering if Blaine was ready for round two. He was, he could tell from his reaction. HeHeH

~ o_o ~

Anita and Mercy walked to Lima through the drizzly dusk, without speaking. They both were wondering how to explain what was happening at their cabin to Burt. "Do you really think Kurt and Blaine can get back to Blaine's time, Mama?" Mercy had always considered the magical aspect of healing as sort of a wish, a hope and a prayer, not as part of reality. She assumed people appreciated the theatrics, not figuring they were getting their money's worth without a few mumbled words and some waving of the hands. This time travel stuff with the boys was pure magic, though.

"Yes, I do. He got him here and I think he can get him back. I'm hopeful that after tonight they will be linked closely enough for Kurt to get there with him. It'll be tricky for Kurt to picture where to take them, to target exactly where and when to go. That's the danger, that he'll picture something or somewhere else. Kurt only needs de Mirable to teach him how to believe in himself. I have to trust they'll be alright."

"So, did you always know Kurt had this…thing, Mama?" Mercy wanted to know why her mother had never warned her of it. What if she and Kurt had suffered some mishap because Kurt had no idea what he was doing?

Anita merely sent her daughter a look. "Of course not, Mercy! I would have…. Well, I never once suspected that sweet, shy white boy could do things that the most potent of healers would never even try. I did always know he was special though, from the first day I met him. That was why I agreed to work for Burt. That boy needed a mother's love, so badly…and I had lots to spare." She smiled at Mercy, who grinned back.

"Maybe some of it rubbed off from you? I don't think I got any though." Mercy shrugged a bit. She had once been jealous of her mother's affection for Kurt, until she grew to love him herself.

"That's not all a bad thing honey. It can be dangerous and it's a big responsibility. At least you don't have to worry about being caught out in the rain, which is a very good thing because it's going to pour again in a few more minutes." Anita glanced upward, with a long suffering sigh. It had been raining off and on for weeks now and she was ready for the sun to come out again…but not until after the boys went home tomorrow.

It took some talking to get Burt to calm down, when they explained where the boys were and what they were doing. Eventually he understood why Kurt had decided to do whatever he could to return with Blaine. They all loved him enough to hope he would be safer there, even though they would never see him again. Mercy and Anita went to bed in Kurt's room and dozed off and on, but no one really slept much that night. Burt lay in the dark and relived moments in his son's life, grateful for every one of them, knowing they wouldn't have many more moments left to share.

Burt wanted to see his son tomorrow to tell him he would always love him, before this charlatan did his hocus pocus …just in case it surprised them all and worked. Anita said she thought Kurt was the one who had caused this wrinkle in time, and he was the one who could iron it out again, with de Mirable's guidance. Knowing Blaine had come to him because he was his perfect match helped to dull the pain of losing him. He knew the happiness that being with the one you loved could bring, and wanted that for his son. And he wanted Kurt and Blaine safe, even if he never saw them again. At least he could tell himself they were happy, if they made it back.

~ o_o ~


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

"Now I know what de Mirable meant by our passion binding us together. I feel so much closer to you now. Do you think this feeling lasts forever, or fades away when we're not lying next to each other?" Kurt asked his lover what he thought, as he let his fingers run up and down the hair on Blaine's belly. It felt so good to not worry about what was allowed anymore. It was perfect permissible to caress Blaine, in whatever way he wanted. He could think of lots of ways to make Blaine happy, several of which he still intended to try tonight.

* * *

Palid daylight slowly returned, revealing the boys dozing in each other's arms. After the first few times, acheiving an orgasm wasn't even important. They'd kiss, rock and lick for a while, then subside back into a doze for a while until one of them woke the other while searching for new spots to explore. Their lips were swollen, and they were both chafed and raw, but they still searched out new places to kiss, new skin to nuzzle and their arms still reached to hold each other, never quite believing that this was allowed, after resisting their instincts for so long.

They were both lapsed into one of their exhausted dozes when they heard a soft tap at the door. Blaine groggily reached for the blanket that had gotten pushed to the bottom of the bed and pulled it protectively over his and Kurt's lax body, before he called out softly. "Yeah?"

The door opened a crack and Anita's head dipped into the room, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor. "I got fresh coffee and biscuits with sausage and gravy for anybody that's hungry. Do you want me to bring a tray in here for you?"

A quick glance at Kurt's tired blue eyes as he shook his head confirmed they would get dressed and eat in the kitchen like normal people did, instead of being served like royalty. "We'll be out to eat in a few minutes, Anita. Thanks." Actually food sounded pretty good to Blaine, seconded by a distant gurgle from Kurt.s belly.

"Are you ready to face this day?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt nodded, stretching like a cat before he rolled to his side of the bed to get out of it. "Mmm. Yes, I'm starving." A stifled hiss escaped him as his weight settled into the bed. "oh, sssshiit!" He scrambled to his feet, and turned to look back to Blaine with a quirk of his eyebrows.

Blaine glanced at him, with an amused smirk." So much for your virginal ears." He chuckled at Kurt's abrupt change of attitude toward swearing.

"It's _not_ my ears that aren't virgin anymore! Oh my god, I think we might have overdone a bit." He winced as he clenched his cheeks tightly. God, how was he going to sit down to eat, without announcing to everyone how sore he was?

Blaine raised an eyebrow at the clear tooth marks on one of his buttocks. Geeze, he must have done that, sometime along the way. Now that he was taking notice, he could see Kurt's previously unmarred skin was liberally dotted with red marks, scratches and love bites. Good grief, he turned into an animal when Kurt got him going. On the other hand, he was wearing evidence that Kurt was pretty intense too, as he noted the line of hickeys down his thigh and the twin rows of nail marks Kurt had made on his hips. Blaine rolled to his feet, and immediately seconded Kurt's statement.

"Oooh, ouch! Do ya think so? Geeze, we definitely should have paced outselves better." Their eyes met in a fond smile. The night of delighted discovery they'd just enjoyed was well worth every single twinge. "I love you." Blaine whispered to his boyfriend, a glowing smile on his face.

"I love you too. I can't tell you how much, Blaine. It's true we were meant to be together, even through time. You said once that gay people can get married in your time? Blaine Anderson, when we get there, would you do me the honour of marrying me,?" Kurt smiled at him hopefully as he stood there looking over his shoulder at him, gloriously naked and beautiful.

"I…will I...?" Blaine gaped at Kurt with his mouth open. He'd imagined someday he would ask someone to marry him, but Kurt beating him to the punch had taken him completely by surprise. "Yes, of _course_ I will. Not right away, but yes, I will marry you. It isn't legal yet in Ohio, but one day we_ will_ get married and have kids and a house and a mortgage, the whole deal, even if we have to move somewhere it is legal. I love you, Kurt Anderson Hummel and I will make an honest man of you one day."

"Well, that's settled then. I love you too, Blaine Hummel Anderson. Now where are my pants?" Kurt suddenly realized they had only the white gauze pajamas they'd worn to bed in the room.

"I am _not _wearing those transparent trousers to eat breakfast with Anita and Mercy!" He announced waspishly, with his hands resting on his hips. With a huff of exasperation he went to the door, hiding carefully behind it as he opened it a crack to call out. "Mercy, could you please bring our clothes over here so we can get dressed?" Then he closed the door and waited impatiently, with his arms crossed over his chest. The sweet shy boy Blaine had met a couple weeks ago seemed to have been replaced by a self-assured young man. A couple minutes passed before there was another tentative tap at the door.

Kurt waited until Blaine had wrapped the blanket around himself before he opened it cautiously, ensuring he stayed well behind it as he reached an arm around the door for their clothes. Mercy's eyes met his, and he smiled his thanks to her. Her eyes slid to his shoulder and widened, before she put her hand over her mouth and closed the door, her shocked face her only comment. He leaned back to peer at his shoulder and saw two sets of teeth prints where Blaine had bit him. Oh my...

He glanced back over his shoulder to Blaine and heard him chortling from where he was about to pour water into the basin to wash up. He saw his face abruptly change when he caught sight of himself in the small mirror over it. It showed Blaine his curls had gone absolutely wild with a severe case of sex hair. "Oh lord. I certainly look like I've been repeatedly ravished. What is my Mom going to say when she sees me?" Blaine turned to grin at his boyfriend, but stopped smiling when he noticed Kurt's anxious expression.

Oh my god! It had suddenly occurred to Kurt that he would meet Blaine's friends and family later today, if all went according to plan. "They're going to hate me, aren't they? I've defiled their son!"

"They'll have to get used to it….I guess. If not, we'll have to work something out. They know I'm gay, even though I've never had a serious boyfriend before. I'm not about to give you up, no matter what they say. It's you and me, together from now on."

Kurt quirked a grateful smile in answer, glad to hear Blaine say it out loud. They would be fine. They _would_ be fine…right? God, just the thought of going to a whole new world he knew nothing about was terrifying, with Blaine the only person familiar to him. But they had talked over every option and this was the best of the lot, if it was even a real possibility. At least they could _have _a future there, in the future. But he hated to think of being a burden to Blaine, like some helpless princess he had to keep sheltered from everything. He was_ not_ a girl. He was a man, and he intended to pull his own weight.

"Blaine. When we get there…_if,_ we get there, I want to go to school. I want to learn how to support myself, so I'm not a dead weight holding you back. I don't want you to have to look after me for the rest of my life." Kurt laid out their clothes for them, as he watched Blaine wash up. There was no more awkwardness between them, even though they were still naked. They had joined their souls to each other, along with their bodies and they were now linked as close as two people could be, and still be separate people.

"Hey! No way honey, could you _ever_ be a dead weight. For one thing, I would be honoured to look after you for the rest of my life, just the same as you've looked after me here. But I know you would never be content to just sit around and decorate the place, even though you are very decorative. You sing like an angel, and that's remarkable in any time. We're still young. People in our era don't finish school until their mid-twenties or even later. You have lots of time to acclimate and find your niche. Believe me, we will be fine. We are equal partners, whether we're here, or in my time."

Kurt knew Blaine would understand how he felt. He was reassured that they would find their way, where ever they landed. It was probably far more likely that he would have to continue to shield Blaine, since he still doubted that they would really find a way to get to Blaine's time. But still, if he had brought Blaine here, there had to be a way to get them back.

Kurt washed up when Blaine was finished, with a cooling cloth and a bit of the herbal balm carefully applied to his sore and chafed flesh, while Blaine worked out the tangles in his hair. Kurt helped him comb through the curls, but he still wasn't happy with the result. "I need a trim or some Ultra hold gel to get this under control." he muttered. A growl from Kurt's stomach convinced him to worry about it later. Breakfast was waiting. Before they left the room, Kurt darted back to remove the soiled sheet from the bed and bundle it into a ball, embarrassed at all the stains smeared on it. Then they took each other's hand and braced themselves to face everyone else.

Blaine stopped short as soon as he opened the door, when he saw Burt seated at the table waiting for them, convinced Kurt's father was going to murder him for sullying his son. Kurt was looking at Blaine with a devoted smile and hadn't yet noticed him, until he noticed Blaine's hesitant expression. He looked up and met his father's eyes.

"Dad!" His delighted expression suddenly turned cautious, not sure how much his father knew about what had happened and what might happen next. He hoped he wasn't angry at Blaine, when he was just as much responsible for the new developments in their relationship.

"Morning Kurt…and Blaine" Burt nodded with careful politeness to Blaine but he was unable to keep some resentment from his face. He knew Blaine had taken his place at the centre of Kurt's heart. But when he saw how entranced his son looked with Blaine, he couldn't continue to hold a grudge. In hindsight, now he understood why Mason Little, his wife's father, had looked at_ him_ with so much resentment when he had married Elizabeth.

"Anita told me that you two are going to try…ah, going today. I came to say good bye…and tell you I love you, Kurt. Blaine, you better look out for him, or I _swear_, I will haunt you till your dying day." Burt could feel his eyes filling with tears at the thought of never seeing his only son again.

Kurt rushed from Blaine's side into his father's enveloping arms. They shared an embrace that lasted for long minutes before Kurt pulled back from inhaling the comforting smell of his father, with tears raining down his face. "I'll miss you _so_ much dad. You go ahead and ask Carole to marry you and have a whole dynasty of children and grandchildren, all right? Maybe I'll take our kids to look up the local Hudson-Hummels and tell them about their great, great,_ really_ great grandpa."

"You do that son. The only thing that makes losing you bearable is the thought that you'll be safe and happy there together. Don't take any risks and stay out of the rain, would you?" Burt bitzed his son on the nose, the way he used to when he was little, in a light hearted gesture of love, though his face still reflected his sadness through the brave smile. Kurt returned a wavering smile, but still held him by the shoulders, reluctant to let him go.

Blaine approached Burt and his son warily. "Don't worry, Burt. I promise I'll always love him and take care of him. Maybe we'll even name our first son after you. Burt Anderson Hummel…well, maybe not." Blaine chuckled at Burt's expression. "I can't imagine how hard it must be for you to let him go with me. Thank you sir, for trusting me.

I know we're just kids now, and we have to finish our education first, but one day we're going to get married. We can have our own kids with a surrogate, or maybe we might adopt one that needs a home, but I _do_ know we want kids someday."

Blaine and Kurt shared a fond look that told Burt they had already looked farther ahead into the future than anyone else had guessed. Burt smiled gratefully. Losing his son was worth it if he might still have everything that had made his own life worthwhile, after he'd given up all hope of Kurt's happiness.

De Mirable and Étienne emerged soon after from Mercy's bedroom. Étienne and le Maître had drunk their own goblet of wine, and the drug had once again made the night pass in rapture. The master was kind that way. Anita immediately decided she would scour that room with buckets of boiling water as soon as they left. God knows what they had been up to in Mercy's bed. It was obvious the boy had yearnings for Kurt, the way his eyes burned when he looked at him. Le Maître pretended but she could tell by the proprietary way he looked at his pupil that he had feelings for his apprentice. She suspected that Étienne would desert him the moment he found better prospects elsewhere.

They all ate breakfast without much conversation, everyone distracted by their sadness and worries. With not enough chairs for everyone, the two boys were more than content to stand with Étienne and Mercy while they ate, with a knowing glance shared between the boys. Anita had no reluctance about sitting at the same table as Burt in her own house. She knew she wouldn't be his employee for much longer, her help no longer required once he and the Hudson widow were married. Burt felt more like a friend, after all that had passed between them. Her heart ached for the loss of the son he loved so much. She was glad he had found someone to help him start over.

Mercy sensed undercurrents around her that she wasn't privy to, but was grateful when Kurt wove his fingers with hers when they were done eating. "I'm going to miss you terribly, Mercy. Find some nice boy and whip him into shape, all right? I want to meet your progeny too, a hundred and thirty five years from now." A half quirked smile crossed Kurt's lips, with a rueful watery blinking of his beautiful eyes. Saying goodbye to his best friend was almost as hard as saying goodbye to his father.

Mercy let herself cry without even trying to stop it, and hugged Kurt closely as she spoke softly. "I got my eye on Chester Harkness, so we'll see what happens. Be safe and be happy, Kurt. I love you like a brother and I'll miss you like a lover." That was as close as she was going to come to telling Kurt how much she loved him. In Blaine's time she might have …but it wouldn't have worked then either, if he preferred men and Blaine was his perfect match. Some things were just never meant to be.

When breakfast was over, Étienne once more filled all the kettles and pots with water to perform another cleansing ritual. Once again, the boys submerged themselves into the tub, this time with a grateful sigh of relief. Their abused flesh was eased with the warm water and a selection of herbs chosen for the purpose by Étienne.

He surveyed the evidence on their bodies of a night spent in passion with another jolt of jealousy at the boys obvious devotion to each other. They had shared far more than just their bodies, he knew. Their love made them glow with the sort of happiness that plainly showed every time they looked at each other. Étienne coveted more than just a beautiful body he could share his bed with too. He wanted to feel what these two boys had. He wanted someone of his own to love and to love him back.

At that moment, he decided that he would appeal to the storm for his own match, when the boys did and hope he found him, like Blaine and Kurt had. He was barely eighteen but it had been half his life since anyone had truly loved him, when his mother died in the same cholera epidemic that had taken Kurt's mother. He'd overheard Blaine say that it was safer in his time for those that preferred the love of other men and he wanted the chance for happiness before the evil he sensed in his future caught up with him.

He massaged the soothing salve on their bodies and heard them sigh gratefully. This time, they were much less apprehensive about his attentions, though Kurt still prevented him from spreading the salve as far as he wished. They shared a look of understanding, if not friendship, when Kurt took the salve from him and carefully applied it himself. Kurt could feel how alone Étienne felt, far more alone than he had been, with his father and the Jones family to love him. Kurt's generous soul hoped one day he might be lucky enough to find someone who made him feel he was perfect, just the way he was, the way Blaine did for him. Kurt went back to the kitchen to wait with Anita, Mercy and Burt while Blaine, the master, and then Étienne had their own cleansing baths and made their final preparations.

It was nearly time. Kurt felt his muscles tense at the enormity of what they intended to undertake and stretched his shoulders, trying to ease the nervous headache he was starting and took a bracing breath trying to rally his courage. He told himself that as long as they remained together he could deal with whatever happened.

Blaine couldn't stop worrying that he might somehow lose Kurt, and go back alone, or end up somewhere in between, Kurt lost to him forever. He had to vent some of his emotions before his heart exploded. He wanted to declare his feelings to Kurt and the people who mattered to him, while he still could, before he might be ripped away from him forever.

He asked everyone waiting in the kitchen if he could sing something for Kurt, while le Maître and Étienne finished their preparations. Kurt was expecting a sweet love song, like the one Blaine had sung about holding hands. But what Blaine sang for him brought tears to his eyes and made his heart ache in his chest. It felt like Blaine's arms were around him again, recreating the soft loving words they had murmured to each other last night. Though he was standing across the room from him he felt his love surrounding him, as he sang with tears shining in his eyes.

_**Moments In Time**_

_Shut the door, turn the light off_  
_I wanna be with you_  
_I wanna feel your love_  
_I wanna lay beside you_  
_I cannot hide this even though I try_

_Heart beats harder_  
_Time escapes me_  
_Trembling hands touch skin_  
_It makes this harder_  
_And the tears stream down my face_

_If we could only have this life for one more day_  
_If we could only turn back time._  
_You know I'll be your life,_

_Your voice, your reason to be_

_My love, my heart is breathing_

_For this moment in time_  
_I'll find the words to say_  
_Before you leave me today_

_Close the door, throw the key_  
_Don't wanna be reminded_  
_Don't wanna be seen_  
_Don't wanna be without you_  
_My judgment's clouded,_

_Flashes left in my mind_  
_Going back to the time_  
_Playing games in the street_  
_Kicking balls with my feet_  
_Dancing on with my toes_

_Standing close to the edge_  
_There's a pile of my clothes_  
_At the end of your bed_  
_As I feel myself fall_  
_Make a joke of it all_

_You know I'll be your life,_

_Your voice, your reason to be_  
_My love, my heart is breathing_

_For this moment in time_  
_I'll find the words to say_  
_Before you leave me today_

The silence in the room when Blaine finished was palpable, each of them caught up by the aching love Kurt's boyfriend had sung about. Kurt rushed across the room to hold his lover, tears rolling down his face, not caring that they were all watching them. He murmured to him. "I love you so much. I'll always be with you Blaine, even if..." Blaine held him to his chest, hiding his face in his neck, overwhelmed with his feelings.

Mercy watched them, wiping away the tears from her face with her wrist, the words striking too close to her own heart, knowing she would never get to share any of that with Kurt. Her Mama took her hand, guessing now how much her daughter loved Kurt, the boy she had loved like a son. No one felt it was wrong when Kurt kissed Blaine lovingly and they held each other tightly.

Le Maître had been drawn to the room by Blaine's voice to listen, with Étienne at his shoulder. He was moved enough to hope their bond was strong enough for them to be held together by their love, even if they didn't survive their sojourn back to Blaine's time. Burt felt tears gather in his eyes, so glad his son had found a love like this, reassured that it was strong enough to hold them together. He was suddenly confident they would be fine.

Etienne self-consciously wiped tears from his eyes with his sleeve, his jealous yearning subsiding to acceptance. He'd had no idea until now what love meant, that this much intensity could exist between two men. Even le Maître felt it, surprising him by putting his arm around his shoulders and holding him fondly, as he had never done before, with anyone else there to see. Alphonse had never heard anyone put so much emotion into a song before, understanding now why Kurt had called the boy to him across the years to awaken his sleeping heart. It seemed they were a perfect match after all.

The boys waited outside for le Maître to finish his preparations and join them, now dressed in a long ceremonial robe. It was the darkest blue of the sky at night, with a sash holding it closed. Small symbols were stitched into it, but they were too small to tell what they were, except Blaine could decipher one starburst on a shoulder and a waning moon on an arm. He smiled, picturing Mickey in the Disney movie Sorcerer's Apprentice. Kurt looked curiously at his smile, but Blaine knew no one here would understand. He could hardly wait to show Kurt every Disney release in his DVD collection when they got back.

Étienne was wearing a non-descript pair of dark trousers and a pale blue shirt. His outfit was eerily similar to the one Kurt wore, but Blaine supposed imitation was a sincere form of flattery. He wouldn't mind leaving him and the Le Maître behind. He was tired of the guy ogling his boyfriend with his eyes taking liberties he intensely resented. Kurt was _his _boyfriend.

Le Maître began by bowing formally to first Blaine and then to Kurt before they left the house to circle to the open area behind the house. A nanny goat tied to a tree baaa'd curiously at the procession of people invading her pasture, but quickly lost interest and began to chew at the grass, unconcerned by the actions of humans, if it didn't involve food. They formed a ragged circle around de Mirable and waited, the wind picking its way through their clothing.

De Mirable began by muttering solemn incantations in what Blaine guessed might be a bastardized Latin for a few moments, trying to whip up a storm in the open area. The sky was grey with low ominous clouds but showed no sign of an impending rain shower. The spiritualist's voice rose in intensity, with more mumbled invocations and encouraging puffs of smoke from a bag of powder tied at his waist. Everyone stood and tried not to fidget while he went on and on for long moments.

He was a dismal failure, in that the sun contrarily came out, emerging from the cloud cover to mock him. Granted, it was a pale watery looking sun, but it was no tempest either. Everyone's eyes met, but no one said what they were thinking. After another half an hour of patiently standing around, by common consent they took a break and had some tea while they considered their options. Le Maître's eyes refused to meet Anita's and admit that he might not be successful. He _had_ to succeed, or he would lose his self-respect adn the respect of everyone else. Failure was always a possibility whenever he attempted something so far fetched, but he hadn't given up yet by any means. He removed himself from the group and said he would commune with a helpful spirit, to get into the proper frame of mind. Étienne watched him go gloomily and hoped he could figure out how to manage this daunting task.

Burt finally tackled the subject, trying to sound hopeful. "Well, it's _gotta_ rain sometime soon. It's rained pretty much every day for the last two weeks. Why would today be an exception?"

No one answered him, afraid this might be the day it chose not to rain. Perhaps it didn't matter when a storm came, but after all the preparation they'd made it seemed that it must be today that the boys went…or they didn't.

When le Maître returned, he confidently announced they should go to the top of the hillside behind the house and try again, as if it might help to be a little closer to the heavens. They obediently walked in a single file, one behind the other, with de Mirable, and Étienne leading the way, and Anita, Mercy and Burt following them, before Kurt and Blaine followed last. Kurt jokingly said climbing the hillside reminded him of the dream he'd often had of standing on a mountaintop with his arms extended communing with a storm. Everyone turned to look at him in exasperation. Well, heavens to Betsy! Why wouldn't _Kurt _be the best one to invoke a storm?

He found himself tugged to the topmost peak of the hill, which wasn't a mountainside by any stretch of the imagination, but the idea was hopefully the same. He was glad he hadn't mentioned the part about being naked, or he was sure that they would be forcibly undressing him right now. It might be a necessary component to summon the storm, but he wasn't going to mention it unless everything else failed, and he was going to make sure there would be a whole lot fewer people around than there were now...like just Blaine and him and possibly le Maître. Goodness, what if he arrived in Blaine's time that way? How uncomfortably awkward for all of them!

The master patiently began his mumbled invocations again, while he and Blaine occasionally shared a fond smile, as people in love occasionally do, still remembering the night before. Kurt was distracted by Blaine at his side, and thinking about this being the last time he would see all the other people he loved. Étienne finally lost his patience and strode to where Kurt stood and hauled him to the forefront. "Commencer, s'il vous plait", he ordered him tersely with an apologetic nod to his master.

De Mirable looked daggers at his assistant, but didn't voice an objection to Kurt's assistance. He drew a long breath and started chanting again. Kurt listened to the droning and closed his eyes, guiltily trying to concentrate on thinking stormy thoughts. As the time ticked slowly by, he gradually felt the wind picking up. He lifted his face to feel the cool breeze, and saw the clouds gathering in his mind. His arms raised unconsciously and he felt the wind on his face

After several more moments, a distant rumbling began in the distance from a cloud bank advancing from the south west, growling like a tiger on the hunt. Everyone had stopped doubting them now, with most of the sky beginning to roil in dark boiling clouds that foretold a storm was fast approaching. Anita shivered, feeling it creeping ominously closer with every moment that passed. The first flash of lightning reminded everyone that the top of a hill was perhaps not the best place to be standing during a lightning storm.

De Mirable ceased his chanting and looked around in some surprise, before he decided his work was done. He pulled his robe about him and bowed again to Blaine and Kurt before he left the area, quickly striding like a stork out of water, belatedly remembering to look for Étienne only once he had already attained level ground.

Anita, Burt and Mercy followed him reluctantly, pulled away by Mercy, who had no intention of making an unscheduled visit to the future. Étienne left with the others, but retreated only a short way. He stopped after about fifty feet, trying to decide how best he could manage to hitch a ride, without Kurt being aware of it. The storm was still a few miles away, but it was easy to see from this height that it was approaching fast, with the lightning occasionally flashing out of the heavy thunderhead clouds and rain pelting down below.

Blaine watched Kurt curiously, alone with him with the wind buffeting them and tangling his hair again. Kurt's face was still turned to the heavens, his eyes closed with a faint smile on his face and the wind whipping his hair around. His clothes were pressed flat to his body, just as Blaine's were. A sudden deluge of raindrops fell, beginning with as few audible plops, then quickly increasing to a constant hissing patter. Blaine turned his face up too, and felt the cool rain soaking into his scalp and running down his neck into his shirt. He took Kurt's hand and felt him squeeze it in his, though his face remained tilted upward.

A sudden crack of lightning zigzagged across the sky only a mile or two away, with a hissing roar when it blasted a hefty sized branch from a tree. Blaine jumped in instinctive terror, noticing Kurt hardly flinched. He hovered nervously beside him and renewed his grip on his hand. If Kurt was going to get incinerated by a strike, Blaine was going with him, whether it be back home or straight to hell. Kurt seemed to sense him there, because for the first time he turned his head and met his eyes, a bit goggle-eyed at his success. Blaine nodded encouragingly at him, then closed his eyes and tilted his face upward, with his eyes closed, waiting expectantly. Kurt watched him and remembered they were supposed to be focussing on the same goal.

They had talked about where that should be and decided that the Hastings house in Lima was the only common denominator that was close by and reached across both times. They would concentrate on them meeting there on the steps. He closed his eyes and imagined he and Blaine finding each other, but he couldn't help a small part of his mind hoping they wouldn't look like drowned rats when it happened, soaked by the rain. Goodbye Mercy, was his next thought, convinced that something was going to happen. He could feel the suspense building along with the static in the air.

Étienne had crept back to the top of the hill, nearly changing his mind when the first strike came so close. He persisted and saw Blaine and Kurt join hands and wait, though the rain was coming down so hard, it was making a mist appear near the ground. A prickling suddenly began crawling over his skin, making every hair on his head stand up and he knew this was it. He made a run for them, but tripped over an unseen rock, falling full length onto the ground five feet behind them.

They never had a chance to even notice him, because a second later it happened. The world went supernova bright, before everything went black, with a crack that sounded like the earth had split in half.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Kurt's head was speared to the ground with agony, when he woke spread-eagled on the ground with the rain pattering down on him. If he moved even a muscle, he was afraid his head would shatter like a dropped egg, spilling his brains on the ground. He held as still as he could, hoping the intensity would abate. He shivered as the rain pelting him reminded him he was lying out in the open. He should try to find shelter.

A constant sound penetrated his misery. He couldn't identify the wet sound, like a wave making ripples in a river, but it came and faded away over and over again, sometimes softly and sometimes louder, sometimes accompanied by a mechanical roar competing with the wet noises. A different sound rose above the background chaos, blaring in a belligerent two second honk before it suddenly disappeared. It was noisy here, he could tell, but where was 'here'? The unfamiliar surroundings felt so alien…

Blaine! Where was Blaine? Kurt forced himself to roll to his side, his gratification at discovering his brains were apparently intact, underlying his terror over losing Blaine. He winced as he carefully opened his eyes and looked with astonishment at West Road, which in his time was a quiet hard packed dirt road leading to Mercy's rural house. Today it bustled with metal conveyances of all sizes, colours and shapes rolling on big black tires, following one behind the other in a constant procession. He saw a forest of wooden poles overhead supporting a cat's cradle of wires amid innumerable lettered signs flashing with lights, each shouting for his attention. All his senses were being bombarded, the information overload making him close his eyes. His only defense was to shut it all out, until he found the strength he needed to find the boy he loved.

"Blaine? Where are you? Blaine?" He called him weakly, his voice barely audible, as he shakily pulled himself upright and looked around in frightened bewilderment. There was no way Blaine would hear him over the constant cacophony around him Where was he? He was standing on the grass in front of a house with a sign advertising the dental services of Dr. Ches Jones. What if he _never_ found Blaine again? What if they had somehow become separated and Blaine was lost to him forever?

"Oh god, please Blaine, don't leave me here alone!" He was crying with distress now, as he swayed on his feet, bubbles of blackness popping in his head telling him he was about to collapse. He lurched a couple steps to grab at the railing on the nearby stairs, thumping down ungracefully on his ass, before he fell down.

Ohh! The twinge of discomfort reminded him that only last night, he and Blaine had made love for the first time, exploring new experiences for most of the night. They had conquered the last barrier between them, hoping to increase the chances of staying linked through the transfer back to Blaine's time. He _couldn't _lose him now, when he'd given up everything he knew to be with him. Please God, don't leave me marooned here without Blaine, he prayed fervently, trying to hold down the incipient hysteria edging closer with every minute.

The helpless anguish in the boy's feeble voice caught the curious attention of a girl leaving her father's dental office. Mercedes had stopped in to pick up some shopping money, on her way to the nearby mall. She slowed beside him on the steps to check him out. The poor guy looked seriously distraught, and was barely able to sit upright. Was he sick or strung out on something?

"Hey, are you okay, dude? You sound like you're in trouble. Chill out for a minute and I'll try to help. " She bent over to look into his face, her warm brown eyes and tentative smile distracting Kurt from his fears.

Kurt took a second incredulous glance at her, his shock distracting him from his dismay. Goodness gracious! He had thought at first it_ was_ Mercy! The girl's skin was a shade lighter than Mercy's glossy black, her hair was cut in a sleek shoulder length bob, and she was a little heavier, but she had the same gentle kindness in her eyes and sweet smile his best friend always had for him.

His eyes widened with disbelief at her clothing. She was wearing a hip length hooded jacket, in a luminous shade of fuchsia Kurt had never seen outside a flower garden before, and a pair of snug blue _leggings_ under a black knee length garment of some sort! How in heaven's name had she escaped her mother's attention dressed like that? Nevertheless, she seemed sympathetic and willing to help. He definitely needed her help, if he'd lost Blaine.

"I seem to have lost my friend. We were supposed to meet around here" Kurt answered her softly, immediately trusting her. Her resemblance to his best friend calmed him immensely, familiar in this strange place.

"Well honey, what's he or she look like and I'll see if I can help?" She answered him calmly, coming closer to hunker down beside him on the step, ignoring the constant drizzle falling on them both. She smiled at him encouragingly. He didn't seem to be under the influence of anything, simply sick or lost maybe. She knew most of the kids around here, and he was a nubie, so maybe he was a tourist or something.

"Um…well, he's …ah, rather short in stature, with black curly hair. Rather a nice looking boy, with golden green eyes." Kurt could see crowds of people walking nearby, people riding in the cars, people weaving around obstacles on bicycles, people were everywhere! How would he ever find Blaine in this seething crowd of humanity?

"Hmm" She stood to scan the area then glanced down at him with a sassy grin. "Would he be _that_ guy, the one who seems to be lookin' for somebody he lost too?" The girl pointed with her chin toward Blaine, posed confidently with her hands on her hips, her mouth curled up in a smile. There he was, standing forty feet away in front of the Harkness House, searching up and down the road, with a hint of desperation in his stance. They could see his mouth open to call out, but his voice was washed away in the constant background noise.

"Blaine! Oh my god, Blaine!" Kurt jumped excitedly to his feet to run to his boyfriend, but he appeared to have not yet gotten his sea legs, and immediately tripped his fell length on the grass. The horrified girl bent to see that he was still conscious, and then ran to get his friend.

"Hey, I think your friend like, fainted or something. He's over there." Blaine followed her pointing finger to see Kurt struggling upright to sit again. He raced over to kneel beside him and immediately pulled him into his arms to clutch him against his chest and kiss his hair in relief.

Mercedes watched this display and huffed a sigh in consternation. Damn it. It figured. It seemed all the cute ones were either gay or taken. Prospective hotties aside, she was still concerned that the boy with the beautiful eyes was feeling alright so she approached them slowly, as they pulled apart to look into each other's eyes sappily. Geeze, how cute were they? Nobody had ever looked at her like that, after she misplaced them.

"Um, dude, is he okay? Do you guys need a ride home or to a hospital or something? I've got my Mom's car just over there, if you do." Mercedes had intended to leave her mom's car here, before walking over to the mall to shop for a while. The mall had a maximum four hour parking rule and she might be there all day, if she went to a movie or something. All her friends were busy and she was sort of looking for something to fill up her day so, finding a distraction from a boring day was cool with her.

Blaine shot her a grateful smile. "Yeah a ride home would be great, if you don't mind. He's very weak and I don't want him to walk very far." Mercedes pitched in to wrap an arm around Kurt in support and led them both to her aged SUV. Blaine tenderly lowered Kurt into the back seat, doing up his belt, while she strapped on her own seat belt in the driver's seat. Kurt looked around himself warily, while Blaine strapped himself in too. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand and held it tightly, while they began to move at much too fast a pace in one of those gleaming metal conveyances Blaine called cars.

"So _your _name is Blaine, I know from your friend, and my name is Mercedes. What's his name?" Mercedes was curious about her new friends and knew the best way to find out what was going on, was to ask. They owed her that much for the ride, right?

"My boyfriend's name is Kurt Hummel and he's had a really tough day. It's nice to meet you, Mercedes. You don't _know_ how much I appreciate your help."

"No probs, hon. I was just going shopping for something to do. So where are we headed?" She glanced in the rear view mirror to see the two boys gazing at each other again with an expression of pleased wonder. She heard the more fragile-looking brown haired boy say softly. "We made it Blaine! This is where…when we were supposed to end up, isn't it? His boyfriend smiled back happily as he nodded to him, then he belatedly answered Mercedes' question.

"I live in Findley, if you don't mind taking us there. Mason Circle…22 Mason. Go right at the first light and then left at the second corner onto Mason, then down near the end.

Blaine held Kurt's hand tightly, as if he might still disappear on him, while Mercedes drove them to his house. They'd made it, they'd _actually _made it home! Blaine had tried not to count on coming back home again, mostly praying that Kurt and he made it somewhere _together_. God, he would never take his home, his friends and his family for granted again! Things looked pretty much the same as when he left, the trees freshly leaved and the lilacs still blooming.

Kurt looked around in open mouthed wonder while they threaded through the traffic, at the whole town now transformed to a metropolis. Even more remarkable, Blaine had confessed their relationship to a complete stranger and hadn't even gotten a second glance, much less a glare of repugnance!

"Um, can I could borrow your phone? Mine got pooched in the rain." Blaine asked casually for the use of the phone he saw tucked into Mercedes capacious vivid lime green purse to find out what the date was without sounding sort of stunned. She passed it back to him wordlessly as she navigated the traffic. Maybe she could figure out what these two were doing from eavesdropping on his phone call.

"Oh, my screen unlock code is a backward zee" She added carelessly. Kurt blinked at her incomprehensible phrase, remembering Blaine's strange dialect of English that he would have to learn, if he wanted to communicate with the natives effectively. Blaine had seemed far less displaced in his time, than he felt right now, completely lost in this strange new world.

He watched as Blaine pressed a button on the small device and then swiped his finger over the top of it in a backward zee. Ah, _that's_ what she meant! Kurt saw a scene showing three girls illuminate the front of the device, with smaller pictures dotted over it in a pattern. Why would someone do that to a perf… His thought was interrupted when Blaine touched ones of the tiny pictures, and it suddenly turned into a calendar. Blaine showed it to him without comment. The date lit up in blue was June 5, 2011. Blaine pointed to the time then, showing as 2:42 pm. "It's the same day Kurt, only a couple hours after I left," He whispered softly, so Mercedes wouldn't hear.

It was nearly the same time, on the same day, that Blaine had been struck senseless and landed at Kurt's feet more than a hundred and thirty years in the past. They had somehow ended up back in Blaine's era without having lost much time at all, though he'd spent nearly two weeks with Kurt! No one here would have noticed anything unusual had happened to Blaine. Kurt watched as Blaine pressed another button to make the screen turn to a pattern of numbers. He pressed a long series of the numbers and held it to his head. Kurt thought at first he was playing a tune on a musical instrument, hearing the soft beeping sound of the tones, but then Blaine surprised him by speaking, while gazing off into the distance.

"Hey Nick, it's Blaine. Something came up and I'm not going to make it to the movie today. I know you probably have that figured out by now, but I didn't want you to worry about me. I'll talk to you tonight dude, and I'll try to explain. Later." He pressed the large button and passed the phone back to the front seat. Kurt presumed Blaine hadn't just had a conversation with the device, and somehow that little thing communicated with his friend Nick.

"Thanks, Mercy…des" Blaine glanced to Kurt, with his eyebrows raised to ask if he had noticed the eerie similarity to his best friend. Kurt nodded. Yes he definitely had. Was it only coincidence that Mercedes had been the first person they saw on their arrival and Mercy one of the last, at their departure?

The car rolled to a stop in front of a huge mansion, at Blaine's direction. That was the only word that applied, as Kurt stared at a huge estate home set on a large parcel of land. Other enormous houses surrounded it, all with large stonework gates at the end of the driveway. Mercedes peered at the house with interest, having never actually met anyone who lived in one of those stone piles. She stole another glance at Blaine, but he was focused only on undoing Kurt's seatbelt.

"Here we are, Blaine. Do you and Kurt want a hand into the house?" She'd love to see the inside of one of those places. Her parent's house was no shack, but wow, this place made her normal two story brick house look like one.

"Sure, if you wouldn't mind. I don't know yet how steady he is on his feet." Blaine replied solicitously and opened his door, while Mercedes shut off the purring car. Kurt had about enough of being treated as helpless baggage. He sat up straighter, and put his shoulders back.

"Surely Miss Mercedes has other appointments requiring her attention, Blaine. I'll be recovered shortly. I'm just a little tired." Kurt protested, as Blaine backed out of the car, encouragingly holding his hand out to Kurt. Kurt emerged from the car, pointedly avoiding Blaine's hand, and immediately lurched clumsily against him, still pretty wobbly on his legs. Lord, the headache was still making him see black spots every time he stood up. He was truthfully absolutely exhausted after an eventful night of little sleep, and getting them back here seemed to have drained whatever energy he had left.

"Yeah, sure you are Kurt. Just take my hand and stop being stubborn." Blaine said flatly.

Mercedes chuckled at the two of them bickering like an old married couple. Kurt was forced to concede and let them support him as they escorted him into the house, or risk landing on his face in the walkway. Blaine closed the door softly after they entered the house and began to steer them for the stairway. Mercedes couldn't help gazing around in admiration at the marble foyer, with its huge chandelier hanging overhead, and a wide central Tara staircase with flanking hallways on both sides. They had barely set foot on the steps when a woman intercepted them from the rear of the house. Busted!

"Oh…hello, Blaine. I wasn't expecting you home so soon. Didn't you say you were going to a movie with Nick and Jeff? Did something come up, because I haven't met these friends?" A petite dark-haired woman, wearing an elegant grey designer pant suit and pearls stood smiling up at them expectantly.

"Mom!" Blaine checked that Kurt was stable then impulsively leapt down the two steps to hug his mother. She widened her eyes in surprise at his unexpected action.

"Well! Thank you, Blaine. I am grateful for the expression of affection, but have you done something that you need to tell me about?" Her voice sounded bemused but held a note of misgiving at his abnormal behaviour. They hadn't hugged since Blaine had become a teenager, and insisted he was no longer her sweet little boy.

"Oh…no. I haven't done anything bad, Mom. I just wanted to say how much I love you."

His innocent eyes were looking at hers openly, so she let it go, but he was acting very peculiar. She wondered if his strange behavior was connected to these two new friends.

"This is Mercedes…uh. "Blaine blanked on her last name, since she'd never actually told him what it was. Mercedes leapt into the gap smoothly.

"Jones. I'm Mercedes Jones. Pleased to meet you, ma'am." She smiled politely, trying to project innocence as well as Blaine did. Her new friend's mother responded with a nod, since they were still supporting Kurt, so shaking hands wasn't an option. Kurt and Blaine's eyes met, when they heard Mercedes last name realizing that Mercedes had to be one of Mercy's descendants.

"And this… is Kurt Hummel. We're just taking him upstairs to lie down for a bit, because he fainted downtown." Blaine explained the situation nervously, deciding to keep it short and sweet. Right now, he needed to get Kurt somewhere safe and let him rest. Blaine hadn't forgotten what it felt like to land somewhere completely foreign, feeling like you'd just had all of the stuffing knocked out of you.

"I see. Would it not be best to take him to his own home, where his parents can monitor his condition?" Mrs. Anderson asked reasonably.

"Um…"Blaine completely blanked on what to say to his mother. He couldn't say that Kurt's father was long gone. Kurt filled in the gap himself this time.

"My mother passed away when I was eight and my father is currently …unavailable. I apologize for intruding into your home, but Blaine very kindly offered me a place to recover." Kurt spoke levelly, though Mercedes still held his arm.

"Oh, I see. Of course you're welcome here, Kurt. Goodness, you _do_ look very pale. Go ahead upstairs to the guest room and I'll bring you some ginger ale in a few minutes. The sugar will help if you're feeling woozy and the ginger will help settle your stomach." She turned to go to the kitchen at the back of the house and they continued upstairs.

Blast, Blaine muttered to himself. Of course, his mother insisted on sending Kurt to the guest room. He would have put Kurt in his own bed, because that's where he belonged, as far as he was concerned. They turned into the guest room, which was seldom used and had a stale deserted feeling. They installed Kurt onto the bed, where he began to shiver, likely in reaction to the shock, his wet clothing in the cool air-conditioned room chilling him further. "I'll be right back with something warm for you to change into, hon." Blaine dashed out the door to his own room, leaving him alone with Mercedes.

"Um… How come your boyfriend's mother has never met you?" She asked, perplexed. She wanted to ask Kurt tons of other things, but he looked pretty faded so she held off in favour of getting some of his wet clothes off him. She told him to start getting out of his shirt while she found him a towel to dry off. He was soaked to the skin, through everything. She returned with the towel to find him huddled into himself, not even started on his shirt.

"Honey, you're going to catch pneumonia if you don't get dry. Take your shirt off and I'll help you dry off." She assumed Kurt was too tired to do it himself.

Kurt merely looked at her and replied haughtily. "I hardly think so. We've just met!" There was absolutely no way he was going to take his shirt off in front of her, with evidence all over him of a night spent making love with Blaine.

She chuckled at what she assumed was a joke, when Blaine came back with a change of clothes accompanied by his mother, bearing a tray. She set it down on the night table and bent to touch her cool hand to Kurt's forehead. He held as still as he could, but she could feel him shivering.

"You don't have a fever, I think. Do you feel any pain or do you think you might be getting a virus?" Her voice held only concern for the pale boy huddled into himself before her.

Kurt looked at her in confusion. What in land's sake was a 'virus'? "I… I'll be f-f-fine after I rest for a short w-w-while. I'm just v-v-very tired and I have a r-r-rather bad headache." Kurt tried to smile reassuringly, but his constant thrum of shivering didn't help much to convince her.

"You haven't slept much and you've hardly eaten anything much either, Kurt. You need to get dry and warm, eat something and then try to sleep for a bit." Blaine interrupted sympathetically before he remembered he was supposed to have only left home a few hours ago, as far as his mother knew. Kurt glanced upward to him warningly, silently cautioning him to watch what he said. Mercedes watched them, wondering what the hell was going on. Something was hinky, she knew. Maybe Blaine's mom didn't know he was gay?

Blaine's mother didn't seem to notice anything odd. All she saw was a sick boy that brought out the mother in her. "Blaine's absolutely right. Change into something warm and dry and get into the bed. I'll get you some Advil while Blaine warms some soup and then you should rest for a bit. Please be assured you're welcome to stay here with us until you feel better." Blaine's mother ran her hand in a caress over Kurt's damp hair, then took the pile of clothes from Blaine and handed them to Kurt. She glanced from Blaine to the open door expectantly. Blaine took the hint and went to warm soup with Mercedes following him, though he would have rather stayed to help Kurt change.

When the door closed behind them, Kurt unfolded the bundle in his lap and found a plain white undershirt and a pair of blue flannel trousers that felt warm and soft. He gratefully peeled off his wet clothes, but without a hook or chair nearby to hang them on, left them draped over the end of the bed. He donned the dry clothes and gratefully climbed into the bed, sighing in exhaustion as he settled the covers over himself. As soon as he settled in, his fatigue took over and he dropped into exhausted slumber.

Blaine found some canned chicken soup in the pantry and was nuking it for his boyfriend, while Mercedes watched him, considering her options. She should probably go now, but she was intrigued with these two.

"Blaine, how come your Mom has never met your boyfriend?" She asked him softly, recognizing she was being nosy, but hey, if you want to know something, the best way to find out is to ask. "Does she even _know _you're gay?" She had her suspicions about a few other guys she knew, but hardly blamed them for keeping it on the downlow, here in Ohio. With all the casual homophobic behavior around, people calling anything odd or unusual 'gay', who would want to admit they were gay?

Blaine glanced at Mercedes, about to answer her when his mother came into the kitchen, buttoning her coat and her purse in hand. "Blaine, here is the Advil for your friend. I have to run now, if I'm not going to be late for my bridge day. Please call me if he feels worse, and I'll gladly run home. Otherwise, I should be back by seven. It was nice to meet you, Mercedes. Please feel welcome anytime." She smiled at them, and paused to kiss Blaine lightly as she left. Blaine started getting a tray ready for Kurt, picking up Mercedes question again.

"No she doesn't know Kurt. It's kind of a long story Mercedes, but we haven't known each other that long. I'll tell you about how we met someday, if you really want to know. I think we're gonna stay friends, from now on." They smiled at each other warmly for a few seconds, Mercedes feeling a blush of warmth at Blaine's approval. He didn't object when she followed him, carrying the tray carefully back upstairs to find Kurt sleeping peacefully.

Mercedes busied herself by picking up the wet clothes from the end of the bed, eying the unfashionable homemade clothes and weird underclothing Kurt had been wearing and hung them in the shower to dry, wondering if Kurt was an escaped member of some strange religious sect or something. She was back in time to see Blaine gently brushing the hair from Kurt's face, with a loving gesture that told her he was totally nuts about Kurt. Why couldn't she find someone who felt that way about her?

"I guess I should go now." She had probably outstayed her welcome, judging by Blaine's complete absorption with the sleeping boy. She admired the way Blaine's shirt was stuck to his compact but very nice bod and realized he was still wearing his rain-sodden clothes too. "Hey, you're soaked too, Blaine. You should change into something dry or you risk catching something. Then who is gonna look after _him_?"

Blaine looked up at her with a considering look, before he sprang a non sequiter on her. "How much do you know about your family history, Mercedes?"

The question knocked her sideways. "Say what?" She asked, confused as hell. Being around these two was like watching a movie on a random skip. You never knew which scene you were going to come in on next.

Blaine knew that Kurt had been comforted by Mercedes presence, so he wanted to keep in touch with their rescuing angel. "Never mind. We'll talk about it some other time. Do you think I could have your number? Kurt will want to thank you himself for rescuing us."

Mercedes shrugged agreeably. "Sure, I'd like to see you guys again too." She couldn't care less that they were gay boyfriends. They were nice guys and she liked Blaine a lot already. She wrote her information down for him and then showed herself out, wondering if she would ever hear from them again.

Blaine immediately changed into clean dry boxers and a t-shirt, set the alarm clock for six and then crawled gratefully into bed beside Kurt. He wrapped around his warm relaxed body and in only moments was fast asleep too. It had been an exhausting few days leading up to his return to his home, and now they could relax for a bit without worrying about anything.

He woke up an hour and a half later to find the flannel was tented below the waist of Kurt's sleep pants, nudging his side. He left a kiss on Kurt's lips and watched him twitch in reaction with a smile of recognition. He slowly opened those incredible blue eyes to gaze back into his and raked his hair back with his fingers.

"Feeling better?" Blaine asked, glancing at the clock. They had an hour before his mother returned. That was more than enough time to show his boyfriend how glad he was to have made it back here with him.

Kurt nodded sleepily. "Yes, much better. I was _so_ tired, Blaine." He was becoming aware that he probably looked a fearsome sight and dropped his eyes from his boyfriend's shyly. Blaine wondered where his intrepidly adventurous boyfriend of the night before had gone and wondered if he could lure him back out again.

"Is there anything I can do for you to welcome you home?" Blaine asked teasingly, sliding his index finger under the waist band of Kurt's sleep pants to gently caress his belly, in a less than subtle hint that he was eager to practice his technique some more.

Kurt inhaled quickly and tensed, instantly aware of Blaine's fascination. Blaine scrunched down onto his hip, about to move down farther, blithely oblivious to Kurt's reluctance to be intimate just after arriving in a strange and alien world. Kurt's hand stopped his, just as he was about to peel the elastic waist down when the door to the room suddenly banged open, scaring them both half to death. Kurt let out a screech, and dived under the covers, bumping Blaine on the nose with his elbow in his panic to escape.

"Ow" he groaned from behind his hand holding his nose, and seeing stars. He really hoped to god it wasn't his mother, arrived home early to check on them, or he was in deep doodoo. He squinted around his hand, relieved to see his friends, Nick and Jeff standing open mouthed with shock at finding him in bed with …oh. Awkward.

"Holy crap, Blaine! Were you gonna _blow _him? I didn't even know you had …that you'd ever…holy crap." Jeff tapered off, surprised into an echoingly awkward silence. Nick glanced at him, then smacked his shoulder. "Be cool, dude." He whispered tersely, before he turned to address Blaine again, starting over as if Jeff hadn't blurted out his question.

"We're sorry Blaine, for busting in on you like this, but we needed to find out who you brought here. We've been worried sick about you. First, you didn't show up at the theatre when Wes said you'd left an hour earlier. Then I got that totally uninformative voice message from you two hours afterward. So I called your mother to see if she knew what was going on. She said you were back here again now, with somebody you had brought home sick. We were afraid something was wrong with one of the guys, Blaine. We had no idea you were, um...ah. Busy, with someone. "

Nick tapered off then too, not sure exactly what Blaine and whoever that was huddled under the covers were doing, though it sure did look like what Jeff had thought it was. "Tell me you didn't bail on us for a hookup with… Is that somebody we know, with you?" Blaine could hardly blame Nick for assuming that whoever was supposed to be sick was one of their friends, since Blaine never hung out with anyone but the Warblers.

Now, they were both looking uncomfortable, suddenly aware they might be outing one of their school friends. "You don't have to worry about us saying anything about this, if you don't want us to, you know." Nick reassured whoever that was hiding under the covers that they could keep their mouths shut.

Blaine smiled at his friends, only slightly embarrassed to be caught in bed with his boyfriend. They would have to meet Kurt sometime, so it may as well be now. "Kurt, come out from under there and meet my friends, Nick and Jeff. Guys, this is Kurt Hummel, my …ah, boyfriend." Kurt slowly emerged from the suffocating blankets warily to see two boys looking back at him with intrigued interest, but not a hint of revulsion. My god, they had been caught in the middle of the day in bed together by Blaine's friends, which would have been positively dire where he came from!

Nick and Jeff saw a pale boy with enormous blue eyes, and a messy shock of brown hair slowly emerge from under the blankets to peer at them nervously.

"Hey, Kurt" Jeff said, with a friendly wave. "We're sorry we busted in and scared you, dude. We didn't mean to interrupt your fun." He grinned ingenuously ready to befriend whoever Blaine liked.

"Yeah, we would definitely have knocked if we'd known Blaine was um...like, _with_ you." Nick apologized awkwardly. Kurt blushed deeply, but warily nodded his acceptance of their apology. They were nearly as embarrassed as he was, but they didn't seem horrified, or disgusted. This situation seemed very surreal to him. After having spent breakfast with his father and Mercy and Anita, now he was in a totally new world, with new attitudes.

"Damn right, you should have knocked. I'm sorry about bailing on you guys, but stuff way beyond my control happened. Complicated, weird stuff so…ah, maybe I could fill you in with what happened later."

"Hey, do you two maybe want to go grab some burgers?" Jeff said hopefully. "We never did get lunch."

"I believe Blaine was trying to convey that we already had made other plans. Perhaps we could meet another time?" Kurt's level voice belied his heart hammering in his chest as he declined the two intruders' invitation politely but firmly, then watched uncomfortably as the two boys nodded knowingly. He had merely wanted to imply that he and Blaine were not interested in socializing just now because they were so tired, but he could tell by their expressions that they had understood something altogether different. Kurt blushed even more when Jeff sent Blaine a smirking quick glance, with a 'way to score, dude' expression coming over his face, one hand raised with his thumb up.

"Ohhh!" Nick said with an upward inflection, deducing quite wrongly, what their plans might be. Well, at least Kurt's plans. Blaine merely shrugged at his friends with a lecherous smile, entirely in accord with their assumptions. He still had no idea that Kurt wasn't on the same page as he was, assuming his boyfriend had shut them down so efficiently because he wanted some alone time with him.

"Well then…Um. Wes also said you left your phone at his house. We can swing by now and pick it up if you like. You can call us whenever you're …um… ready for some company. We'd like a chance to get to know Kurt. So, yeah. Um. Have fun." They backed out of the door awkwardly and closed it gently, trying to act like this sort of thing happened all the time, but they were all aware it didn't. Neither of them had steady girlfriends yet, since they attended an all boy's school, and hooking up with girls was difficult, to say the least. They had always teased Blaine that he'd had an unfair advantage over them because he was gay, but Kurt even didn't go to Dalton. How had they gotten so close so quickly? Until now Blaine wasn't a 'hop into bed with a stranger' kind of guy. God knows, he had been propositioned by more than one guy at Dalton, before and he'd never accepted any of them.

They heard Jeff's voice carry through the closed door. "God, why couldn't I be gay and be getting a blow job?" Jeff wailed to Nick as they went down the hallway. " Ow" They heard him yelp in response to another whack from Nick. "Be cool, man!" Nick hissed at him.

Kurt couldn't help chuckling with Blaine, though he was still shocked at how accepting Blaine's friends were of two boys caught in bed together. "I think I like your friends, even if they did scare me half to death. They really don't care that we're gay?" Kurt asked, with anxiety still in his eyes.

Blaine felt a pang at Kurt's apprehension, and tried to calm him. "Nope, really they don't. They love me anyway, and I love them, even if Jeff can be oblivious, and Nick is much too smart for his own good." Blaine rolled back toward his boyfriend, but as soon as he kissed him he could tell the mood was spoiled by the boys' interruption. He decided to just hold Kurt for a while, grateful they were back home and safe.

Blaine's knew it was his responsibility to help Kurt to learn about a whole new world, even more strange than when he had appeared in Kurt's time.

~ o _ o ~

Coming soon, **Moments In Time**, the sequel to **A Feeling I Can't Hide**, with Blaine helping Kurt learn how to adjust to being a stranger in a whole new world.


	11. Moments In Time, The Sequel Intro

Moments In Time – The Sequel to A Feeling I Can't Hide

A/N: Chapter One of the Sequel has been uploaded, for those who would like to follow. My apologies for intervals between uploading. I will be away on vacation for a couple weeks to mid July

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**Prologue - A New Beginning**

Kurt woke, tangled in the covers, fighting his way up past an arm wrapped around him, hot and sweaty from having Blaine sleeping all over him. A startled glance around the room recalled the unlikely events of this afternoon. Yes, they were here in Blaine's house, a hundred and thirty five years after they had climbed to the top of the hill behind Mercy and Anita's house and been struck by a bolt of lightning, conjured up by…oh my lord, _him_.

The impossible really had happened. He had left his father and everyone else he loved behind , willing to do whatever it took to get Blaine home, and now he was here with him in the future_, _ready or not. He would have to learn how to fit in to this bewildering world evolved far beyond anything he had imagined.

Lord, he felt like he was hugging a woodstove in this overheated bedroom, sweltering under the decorator sheets and matching spread, as if it was the middle of winter instead of a mild June day…or maybe it was early evening, by now. It was hard to tell the time with the rain still pattering on the window obscured by coordinated textured side drapes and matching sheers. He thought fleetingly of the plain blue curtains he'd always had in his own bedroom, faming the window looking out over corn fields beyond their yard. Still, having Blaine this close was a comfort, his proximity the only familiar thing around him.

Go to the new story to read more.


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